Remember me
by Salia432
Summary: Gellert Grindelwald freely roams around Europe. As the news spread around a world, a certain Director of Magical Security has to deal with a rising of Acolytes, foreign Auror and ... personal problems. I don't own any of characters created by J.K. Rowling
1. Chapter 1

_MACUSA, 1925_

 _Office of Magical Security_

\- Graves! I hope you have a good reason to stop my meeting with the representatives of the Magic Amazon Congress?

\- Mrs. President ... We got the news that Gellert Grindelwald managed to escape from Great Britain. The Ministry of Magic has sent howler.

\- Great Isolto ... - Madame Picquery dropped to one of the chairs and looked around at the group of gathered Aurors. Will they be able to fight such a sorcerer as Grindelwald? The specter of the war, which just ended, followed them every step of the way.

\- Is it a threat to our community?

\- We can't rule it out Mrs. President. We will increase security and number of patrols at the border and at all used crossing points. And control of portkeys.

\- Sir, there is also the case of the Second Salemians.

\- Not right now, Goldstein. There are more important things than lunatics like Mary Lou Barebone. As far as I know, we agreed that her fanaticism does not go beyond distributing leaflets and organizing rallies?

\- Yes but…

Both superiors ignored Tina. Seraphina Picquery looked seriously at the Director of Security.

\- Try to keep it as far as possible from the New York Ghost. I want to be informed on a regular basis.

Percival Graves nodded and turned to his subordinates as soon as the President left. He began issuing further instructions by selecting patrol groups from the list.

\- Porpentina, I want you to be available in the quarters, in case Grindelwald gets through, along with Apricot, Smith, Solice, Sweets, Anders. You'll be in the Investigation Department. And no chasing after the Non-Majes. Understood?

\- Yes, Mr. Graves.

\- Dissmissed.

The Auror commander sat on a chair and took a deep breath, rubbing his unshaven cheek. The floor near him creaked.

\- What else Goldstein?

\- Recently gas explodes quite often around the Barebone church. I'm not talking about incidental accidents. Those are regular outbursts.

\- Are you saying that someone does it on purpose? Really, Tina, a little more and I will start to think that you are not suited to serious work because of your obsession.

Tina straightened up when she heard the veiled threat. Maybe Graves was right. Maybe she was really obsessed. Even though she was not allowed to sympathize or interact with the Non-Majes, she couldn't bear Mary Lou and her horrible habit of mistreating the children around her. Not only children. Among her pupils there was also a young man, about twenty years old, but his behavior among people gave the impression of being a hollow, small child in the depths of his soul.

Tina raised her head, placing her hand on the doorknob. Graves didn't move, lost in thoughts. Was that Gellert Grindelwald, so distant yet so close, in his mind? The woman shuddered at the memory of the photo of the man. His face expressed complete peace. As if he was sure that none of them would ever has a chance againts him. As if they were already dead to him.

* * *

 _Later that day, Goldstein's apartment…_

\- How could he ?! In front of everyone?

\- Queenie. He was right. I shouldn't bring it up. And in front of Mrs. President.

\- Honey, you can't let tchem treat you like that. You are as good as they are.

Tina looked at her sister from the report she was filling. She wrote the last sentence with a pen and put everything in her briefcase. Despite the official attitude of her commander, she knew that he treated her in a more confidential way than others. Everyone who started under his wings and persevered, climbed up and gained not only others but his respect as well. It was sometimes difficult to remember that she was his subordinate. Her thoughts were interrupted by Queenie's quiet voice.

\- I think Percival is bitter since his lover left him.

\- How do you know that?

Queenie stopped preparing the strudel, lowering her wand. Listening to the thoughts of the Head of the Department of Compliance with the Law of Wizards was not something she wanted to boast about. Especially before her sister, who was his subordinate.

\- I think he forgot himself. I usually do not hear anything when it comes to him. But that day ... Oh Mother, how many thoughts at once! I guess he was very much in exhilaration. I stayed after hours, because we fought with the bathrooms on the third floor. The Aztec delegation, feathers and gold flakes were everywhere! Really ... I know Teenie, I'm straying from the subject. Anyway ... He was walking down the hall, barely. We were at the height of his office. I said "Good evening, Mr. Graves," and he looked at me like that ... And then I heard him in my head "Her eyes were so green ... why did she left me? She is smiling ... I was too gloomy. I worked too long. Porpentina's sister ... I have to go straight. " This man is so official that even in his mind he calls you full name.

\- I admire you, Queenie. It was almost four months ago! I even remember that I came for you because it was late.

\- Well ... I made some coffee for this poor thing. But I didn't hear anything anymore. He guards himself perfectly. I'm not doing it especially, Teenie.

\- I think we should leave it. It's not our business. It smells wonderful. I'm so hungry!

The younger of the sisters put on the plates potatoes and roasts. With a wave of her wrist she finished the strudel and sat down with her sister for supper.

* * *

It was already dark. Percival walked, lost in thoughts, passing single people without a word. The door to the church was slightly ajar. From inside came the murmur of prayer and pathetic singing. The man paused, absorbing the gentle warmth sipping from inside. A hunched figure of a boy appeared in the doorway. His frightened gaze slipped over the brushed back hair, the emerald scorpions resting on the snow-white collar and the long black coat with the white lining. He hasn't seen here such an elegant man yet.

\- W - would you like to come in? - a small voice surprised the man. Torn out of his reverie, he looked at the boy and shook his head.

\- I was just walking by.

The door closed immediately.

The light of street lamps lit the foggy November air. Graves moved along Pike Street, studying the No-Majes's buildings. He counted five that had visible damage, but they were still standing and inhabited. The sixth tenement house had a worn attic. Auror opened the front door and silently climbed the stairs. Being at the attic door, he felt the presence of magic.

\- _Homenum revelio._

Nothing. Apart from the Non-Majes on the lower floors, no one was here anymore. Graves felt frustration with himself. No wonder Agatha left. Instead of returning home like others, he wandered around sleepy streets of the city, chasing an unknown force that was probably just an exploding gas.

The house was empty. And quiet. Earlier, when he came back he heard Agatha's favorite evening radio show. She stood leaning against the top of the kitchen table, so that he could see the edge of her white stockings. Ever since she married him, she always wore just that, because he said she looked beautiful in them. What a fool of him. How could he just let her go. Maybe because she dropped something about someone she's really interesting for, and she's not compelled to for the last five years. They were married from 10. They were. Key word.

The man hung a coat and a scarf. He waved his hand, thinking only of the fiery whiskey and bed. After a while, the bottle and a glass filled with ice churning followed him. On the first floor he opened the bedroom door and looked around the crumpled bedding. He drank the liquor and put down the glass, over which the cut glass bottle bent down.

He pulled cuff links and indispensable emerald scorpions, a wedding gift from Agatha. He threw them carelessly into the box and placed his wand next to it. In fact, for a few years he wore it as a rule. It was an extension of his hand, though he didn't need it. Old habit.

A full glass flew to his hand. He dried it, sitting on a stool in front of the mirror. He rubbed his face covered with a stubble that had already been visible. On days like this he had the impression that he wasn't looking at a forty-year-old but old man. The hair cut to the skin on the sides and on the back of the head gleamed with silver. Because of lack of sleep for several days in a row or a drunken sleep, it depends on how to look at it, the bags under his eyes were even more blue and visible. Auror began to laugh under his breath.

Gellert Grindelwald ... the most powerful, living wizard, is preoccupied with Europe, probably soon he will unleash the hell here. And he, Percival Graves, Madame's Picquery right hand gets drunk in front of the mirror, lingering over old age.

* * *

Somewhere on the other side of the city, Agatha Graves was putting on a satin nightgown, staring into the mirror. The bed behind her was empty and cold, like the whole apartment and her life. Sister gave her a corner to sleep, just because she honestly hated her husband. She also hoped that presenting her to the deputy head of the American Branch of Gringott's Bank would divert her thoughts from returning to Percival which were haunting her pretty much from first month of her leave.

„ _You're 10 years younger than him, you still have a chance to start a proper family"._ Myra's words echoed in her mind. But she could no longer tolerate Percy's indifference and that they were moving away from each other every year farther. For him, she even moved to the Department of Magical Transport, though the work behind the desk was boring as tripe with oil. All of this so that his career wouldn't be hurt, and that no one would undermine his relation to his subordinate. However, she had to admit that he didn't persuade her to do so. It was her idea. He always counted on her opinion and treated her equally with other colleagues. She never felt worse with him. During second month of her „exile" she realised that she was behaving like hurt teenager. The truth was that she didn't want to tell him about her feelings mainly because she would feel so weak in his eyes.

She shuddered. It felt like a cold, november wind was flying through the room. Instinctively, she grabbed her wand from the dressing table, but she couldn't use it. Her eyes reflected white light and darkness fell on her.


	2. Chapter 2

\- Tina ... Tina!

Porpentina turned around, hearing her friend's voice. Annie Solice took her arm and led her through the corridor.

\- Graves called a secret meeting with the chiefs. Apparently a guy from the British Ministry arrived at night.

\- They sent a messenger to eat? If we would let out of our hands someone like ...

\- Good morning, Mr. Abernathy! - Annie curtsied slightly, and the man stumbled on the carpet.

\- You're horrible. This poor man will one day get a heart attack. I do not think he's used to being accustomed.

\- He is sweet in her helplessness.

Tina paused, silencing her friend. A loud conversation was heard from behind the corner.

\- I don't know how it looks with you, but here Aurors do not show up in the middle of the night without prior agreement. You might as well be one of Grindelwald's followers looking for a way to buy in favors.

\- Really Graves. If I was Grindelwald's puppet, I would not warn you about him and where he can come from.

\- Mrs. Pendragon I wasn't born yesterday.

\- Pendragon? - Annie whispered in surprise, but Tina silenced her.

\- Your arrival the day after we receive information from the Ministry is quite peculiar. Besides, as far as I know, You need all possible wands to embrace chaos in your own country.

\- The Daily Prophet greatly exaggerates the scale of the problem. In addition, we are going to take every eventuality into account. And believe me, Graves. Before you even blink, you will need extra wands in New York. Have a nice day.

Tina and Annie straightened up, continuing their walk along the corridor. A woman passed by in an emerald-green cloak from under a silver gown. On her head she still had a shiny diadem and a platinum feather. It looked like she came straight from the party. She nodded to the women and headed for the main entrance.

\- Goldstein, Solice, in my office. Now.

The women looked at each other, but without saying anything they followed Auror. They wonder what slop bucket he will pour on them. But all other members of the Investigative Group were in the office. Graves leaned against the desk. Looking at each of them individually, he put his hands over his chest. He wanted to trust the people who surrounded him and inspire confidence himself, but with the threat hanging over them it was getting harder and harder.

\- There is high probability that Grindelwald wants to hide in America. For now, however, we have no confirmation. We're increasing protection further. We stick to new procedures. I want to know about everyone arriving. Wizard or not. I want you to patrol the docks. Check passengers and cargo ships. Keep your eyes open. The attack can come from any direction. We are not talking about it loud, but we must be prepared.

Single applause was heard from the entrance.

\- Bravo! I like such speeches. Iris Pendragon - the woman nodded to the Aurors and stood against the wall. She was curious what the head of the Department of Security has to say.

Tina noticed that her boss was slightly clenching his jaw and fist on the edge of the desk. She had to admit that there was something in English Auror, which she didn't quite like. And she was coming back like a boomerang. Her feathers and ornaments disappeared from her head, but her black hair was still stuffed in a delicate bun. Her smirk looked mean.

\- Before Grindelwald ever puts his foot on your land, his supporters will be much more problematic. His ... worship is like a plague. It spreads quickly.

\- We have a very strong identity as a community. It will be harder to convince pure-blood wizards to betrayal. They want to build, they are not lazy because they have everything. Certain status ...

\- For them it is 't a betrayal. It is the occupation of a proper place according to them. And the worst of them ... are the most loyal ones.

\- I think loyalty is still on the side of the peace. The specter of war will discourage them effectively. Nobody wants bloody days to return. Neither us nor the Non-Majes. There is no greater or lesser good in war. There is only death.

Everyone looked at Porpentina, who stood up. She did 't want to interfere. Sometimes, however, it was stronger than her. However Graves had treated her the last time, he was a good commander and wizard. Deep down he was not bad. She wanted somehow to point out that she was on his side, that he was not alone. A murmur of approval passed around gathered people. However, seeing the look of brown eyes from under thick, black eyebrows, Tina sat up, flushed on her face.

\- Miss Goldstein is right. They will not move alone. And we will not let Grindelwald to even put his eyes on America.

Iris pushed off the wall and went to the door. She measured Percival's with cold, blue eyes, as if assessing him as an opponent. But after a moment a smile crossed her raw face. She stood in the open door and bowed her head.

\- I admire this unwavering faith. May it be enough.

Graves looked around at the meeting. He was looking for doubt on their faces. But none of his Aurors showed it. He nodded thoughtfully and stood up. They looked at him with full concentration.

\- You all know what to do. Dismissed.

When the last person left, Percival sat down at the desk, picking up the first file from a pile of documents. He opened it, looking at the face of some kind of black marketeer of enchanted jewelry, but the only thing he thought about was a shadow that drew dark, sticky fingers over the ocean. In his memory, a disturbing sense of raw magic in the attic of the Henry Street building returned to him.

Lock in the door cliked. Iris was standing behind them, ready to knock. Percival clenched his fingers on his wand, as if she was about to attack him. He stood up and looked at the woman expectantly.

\- I knocked several times. Listen, Graves ... we started on a wrong foot. I do not want to be your enemy.

\- You're very good in that, Pendragon.

\- Please, call me Iris - she offered him hand. It was pale and cold. It reminded him of another hand, which he could keep unhindered four months ago.

\- Percival - he shook her hand and pointed to free chair.

\- I came here because I want to fix my mistake. They sent two strike groups to capture him. In the first were my two brothers. There was nothing left of them. The rest was paralyzed with fear. I was among them. We saw how our colleagues are burning in diabolic flames in front of us.

\- So you stood there and you let him escape.

\- I do not expect you to understand. This ... man ... is dangerous because his theories appeal to wizards around the world. Considering how the Muggles solve global conflicts and how it affects our world, they begin to doubt whether we have rightly removed ourselves from the shadow.

\- We live among non-magicians, we build homes with their own. I would not call it life in the shadows. It's clear that I will not walk the street, waving my wand right and left. Because even if I was not a wizard, they would look at me like a madman.

\- Until they saw the effects of this "waving".

\- So let's summarize - Graves got up, walking around the desk, adjusted the shirt cuff, straightening the crease on it.

\- You come straight from a party, a week after Grindelwald's escape, which we also learn about a week later ...

\- It was not fun. Only stupid formal requirements of the Pendragon family.

\- What do you expect from me? I'm suppose to let you in my Department and let you threaten the order because you want to make up your ...

\- Please. I heard about your effectiveness. You can interrogate me any way you want. If you consider me a real threat, I will return to England.

Percival looked at the woman whose face expressed genuine regret and willingness to show. Maybe they could really use her. If she was planning to capture Grindelwald, she might have known things that might have been helpful.

\- Follow me.

They walked down the hall, heading for the elevator. The dwarf standing in it looked expectantly at Auror.

\- Interview office.

The creature measured the woman from head to toe, wistfully smiling. Iris glanced at the man next to him, but he was looking ahead, hands behind his back.

When they finally stopped, the woman flinched, feeling the damp tongue of draft on her shoulders. Graves led her down a corridor filled with balls of blue light. They entered through the black, varnished door.

\- Wand.

Iris hesitated for a moment. But in the end she wanted it. She offered her wand and looked at Auror, who had gone with it to the wood-hewn table. He laid her in the groove, directing the end to the center of the room.

 _\- Priori Incantatem._

From the end of the wand, the blinding light of the disarming spell came out first, the outline of some shiny object to which _Portus_ was thrown, then the shield shimmering in the light, again a disarming spell. A typical Auror's wand.

Percival went to the woman in the middle of the room and touched her temple with his wand. She closed her eyes as he extracted her memories. He extended his hand over the mosaic of the crossed harp and bow. The colorful tiles parted, showing a round bowl hung into the floor. Threads of memories flowed into a silvery, oily liquid and changed its consistency. Amidst silvery smoke, he saw the country road leading to the darkness of the estate. Five other people were in front of him. They stood in front of the gate, which wing was open. Carefully prepared for the attack, they went to the inner road. Suddenly a light flashed, which turned into blue flames. Those who were closest to the building disappeared in the fire. Literally. The rest retreated instinctively. A few tried to disarm the attacker, but he casually reflected the spells. He shot a tongue of fire, but they were prepared shouting _Protego._

Graves was looking at a later conversation in the Ministry, a funeral procession, and a meeting of quiet, dark figures in a Scottish castle. A message on a parchment from a tawny owl sitting on the turret's windowsill, with an eternal pen attached to the paw. Last look at the raw wooden door. A spell cast on a silver object. A dark figure on the sidewalk. Casting the disarmed spell, then the shield.

Graves recognized Denis Seawheat. Wizard from International Relations. After a short conversation, they apparate in front of the Congress building. Graves guessed rest. He got an owl when he went to bed two hours after returning home. Someone knocked to door of a room. Memory faded in liquid.

He waved his hand over the vessel, which was hidden and covered with mosaics. Everything the woman said was true. Which doesn't mean that everything he saw was real. He realized that someone who can incinerate experienced Aurors has no problem with the alternation of one's memories. He decided, however, to have a woman on the eye, by the way checking her past. He returned her wand and nodded toward the exit. She smiled slightly and left, leaving him alone.

Head of his friend popped through opened door.

\- Perc, Mrs. President called a meeting.

\- Another one…

 _Somewhere in New York…_

\- Sir, what are we waiting for?

\- For the right time. Did you find this woman?

\- Yes. They have a church on Pike Street.

\- Where is our guest?

\- In the room, at the end of the corridor.

The figure in a long coat walked down, combing his fair hair. He had to make a good first impression.

When he appeared in the tiny guest bedroom, the woman sitting in the corner of the room rose, calling a strong spell of the shield in front of her. She impressed him. He didn't sense that she was too powerful. And yet she could use non-verbal spells without a wand. Probably her husband's school.

\- What do you want sorcerer ?!

\- Calm now, child. I'm impressed. You have been deprived of your wand and are still defending yourself. You have the soul of a warrior. Tell me, please, what is it about Perival Graves that he is standing by Madame Picquery? What is so special about the last male descendant of the Graves family?

\- You will not get anything out of me.

\- Are you sure? _Legilimens._

The woman shouted, but after the first impression, as if someone were poking a hot poker between her eyes, peace came.

\- Interesting.

The man easily passed through her shield spell and put his pale hand on her stomach. She shrank, staring at the silver-white iris. She saw her trembling reflection in it. She felt ill at the thought of him touching her.

\- So he is not the last ... I would prefer to solve this situation differently. Believe me. The thought of acting against my own kind hurts me. But ... sometimes you need victims to make the matter gain strength ... _Crucio._


	3. Chapter 3

Percival looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. He should have finished 2 hours ago, but at the last minute he received several reports from his subordinates patrolling the city and Non-Majs's transportation network. He made it through all of it, stopping at the Porpentina's report. He sighed heavily, seeing the page of handwriting: "Yesterday, in the late afternoon, Non-Majs called services to an abandoned building on Henry Street, a block from Pike Street, which houses the New Salem Philanthropists Association. Witnesses said that it is impossible for gas to explode, due to the lack of residents and gas installations in a given building. I am asking permission to investigate this matter. "

He waved his hand towards the calendar, typing with the pen "Tina-tenement-Sal". He rubbed his tired eyes. It's time to return home. He was going to sleep as much as he could before anyone called him again. It's been two weeks since the arrival of Iris Pendragon and news. Percival and his investigators spent a lot of time with the English Auror, discussing possible plans and any information that would help in the fight against Grindelwald's Acolytes and himself. However, there was no increased movement or manifestation of radical views. Even the newspapers that got hands of terrifying news, claimed that the whole thing would „drown in the ocean".

Graves left the Congress building and Apparated in front of the wrought iron gate. He put his fingers around one of the rods. The gate opened, but the metal was warm to the touch. Intruders ...

The man pulled out his wand and silently walked into the house. Lamps lit in the corridor. The links of light bulbs slowly gained power. He went deep into the house, from where the spell he cast in his mind, discovered an alien presence. There was a lamp turned on in the living room and the crackling logs and heat were coming from the fireplace.

\- It's really cold here. I let myself light a fire.

\- Agatha ...

The woman brushed her fair hair from her shoulder and came closer. Seeing his outstretched wand, she paused. She should have warned him. Entering the Auror's house without permission was not the best idea. Especially now.

\- What I said then ... I ...

\- It's fine. I don't blame you. I am an old fool who spent half his life at work. You deserve someone to treat you with full attention…

\- I lied!

Percival stood up suddenly, hearing her words. They never lied to each other. That was their policy.

\- Myra said that if I put a case like that, you won't stop me.

\- And she was right ... - Agatha's sister. Graves felt anger growing in him. She loved to intrude their life and stir things. She didn't like him from the beginning of their acquaintance. From the moment he first came to their house with a bouquet of flowers for each of the ladies. He didn't know if she was jealous, even though she had already had a fiancée. However, his coldness in front of her enthusiasm had to give her a hint.

He fell in love with Agatha, when he saw her in the corridor of his Department. Fresh after school, with incredible enthusiasm, she did not mind the usual work of a messenger between the Aurors. He already had experience. For ten years, he was in the Department of Execution of Hounds. He traveled all over North America and Canada, catching outlaws. She was fascinated by his work and himself. Two years later she joined the Aurors crew. And she received a ring of thin braided gold.

Graves finally dropped his wand and wanted to say something to her, but she interrupted him.

\- Wait, Percy ... I was so stupid. Naive, like a child, I wanted you to be jealous. And yet I had no reason to think that you weren't. At every step you showed me love and support. I would never be Auror without you. I wouldn't be what I wanted to be since I saw you. Please, I want to try again. Can you forgive me?

Percival sat down in a chair and a chase of thoughts began in his head. He should be happy, he should have kissed her hands. Take her in his arms and never let go. But the only thing he saw in his imagination was Grindelwald's face, boldly staring at the camera. The face he saw everyday on the wall of his office, on the walls of offices and departments. He was number 1 on the Danger list. And he, as the Chief of Protection, will be the number one to eliminate for the sorcerer. And that made his surroundings dangerous to people who were close to him. And especially for the only person who was his family. She was everything to him.

\- You should go back to your sister.

\- W-What?

\- You are not safe in this house, with me. Especially now.

\- I know the risk. I know you're worried about me, but I can handle it. I will not leave you with all of this alone. You do not need me, but I need you.

The man rose to his feet and walked in two steps to his wife. He caught her arms and came up so that she could feel his breath on his face. As always, his calm, subdued facade denied what was happening to him inside. She knew about it, but sometimes she still got it. This time his eyes betrayed him.

\- You brought me back to the world of the living. How can you say I do not need you.

Agatha smiled at him. It was an exaggerated statement. She simply gave him the boundaries that made him live more often with her than at the Congress office. She ran her cold fingers across the dark shadow of beard on his face.

\- You should shave. And comb your hair.

Percival smiled, barely perceptible. He looked down at her and kissed her forehead.

\- And you need a hot bath, you're frozen. Go upstairs, I'll make something to eat.

It was only when they parted that the man breathed, leaning against the table in the kitchen. He did not think that seeing his wife after four months of separation would shake him so badly. He shook his head. He could not give in to emotions. At the moment, that could kill both of them. He looked at the pantry door. He offered food, but actually did not remember when he last checked the supplies. He waved his wand, but the only thing that flew out from behind the door was a sausage tuft, a few wrinkled potatoes and onions, which had already released rootlets and chives and withered too. Well, he had to deal with it somehow.

Soon the smell of baked potatoes with onions and sausage brought Agatha down. Wrapped in her husband's robe, she stood in the arch leading to the kitchen and watched her husband bustling around. He pulled off his jacket and rolled up his white sleeves. The vest and tie also disappeared somewhere. Scars were shining in the light of the lamp on his forearms. Many of them she healed herself because Percival hated hospitals. After two years of acquaintance and promotion, Agatha decided to do an extended course of herbal medicine and healing. She decided about that after Percy had barely survived the arrest of Blackfang, a werewolf who had notoriously violated the secrecy rules in the United States and Canada.

\- It smells beautiful.

Percival sent plates and casserole to the table. There were even candles burning, that he found somewhere in the cupboard. They sat opposite each other and began eating without unnecessary words. Agatha was accustomed to the silence and the fact that her husband was often with his mind in several places at the same time. But today, for the first time, she felt uncomfortable. As if they were strangers. Fortunately, they had a large house and guest rooms…

\- Is it that bad?

The woman raised her face from the plate, from which she hardly touched anything. She smiled weakly, trying to hide her embarrassment. The food was quite good, but the nerves took away her appetite. She expected a cold welcome, but the silence ...

\- I ... I'm going to lie down.

\- Take a bedroom, I'll put myself in the living room.

\- Don' t be ridiculous, we have so many rooms that we can easily fit.

She got up quickly and waved her wand, cleaning the table. Percival hid the rest of the casserole in the fridge, and for a moment wondered how it had happened that the inseparable couple had become people separated from each other, between whom an awkward silence lingered.

\- Agatha ...

But she was not in the kitchen anymore. The man combed his hair with his fingers and went into the living room. From the closet under the window, he pulled out a blanket and threw it over the back of the couch. He waved his hand, where the fireplace filled with wood and the fire burst into the chimney.

He pulled off his shoes and sat back, looking more into the flames. He tried to calm down, but there was still one thought on his mind. The clock went off at 2 am. The monotonous ticking and crackling of the logs eventually dampened Auror.

Tina stood on the sidewalk, biting the hot dog and listening to Mary Lou Barebone. The Non-Maj's repertoire did not change at all. Sometimes she would diversify her tirades and try to engage in the discussion of passers-by. Even though the majority did not take her seriously, there was a constant group attending her meetings. The woman standing away from the crowd recognized most of the faces. She glanced at her watch and then at a boy in a black blazer , which was definitely not suitable for the approaching winter. It was beginning of December. It's good that he had a hat on his head. However, even from here, Tina saw how his hands tremble while he was giving leaflets to passersbies. Bright, contrasting red marks were visible on the light skin.

Observing the Second Salemeres, Auror came to the conclusion that the woman who led them regularly beat all the children who found shelter under her roof. The worst, however, had the boy. Tall and slim, he looked like a young man, maybe not much younger than herself. And yet his behavior, movements and the lack of any self-confidence gave him the characteristics of a boy who was just beginning to grow up. Sometimes, when she was only a few steps away from him, she wanted to take him from there. Take them all away. But she knew it was impossible.

And for that mysterious events around Pike Street… She didn't believe for a moment that it was a gas explosions.

Tina came a little closer, and something caught the boy's attention as if he had spotted her and recognized her. She tried to dress neutrally so as not to be obtrusive. The boy stared at her for a second and his sight of the beaten dog, pierced her through. He lowered his head quickly, giving paper to the passersby who seemed not to notice him, pushing him and driving him away.

\- I thought I put it clearly Miss Goldstein.

\- Mr. Graves!

The woman jumped in place, but they both disapparated when Auror caught her by the elbow.

They appeared in front of the Congress building. Tina walked quickly behind her supervisor.

\- This woman ... Mary Lou. It's the devil incarnate, sir. She is abusing children who are under her protection, for whom she's supposed to be substitute of a mother. And she is not even that.

\- What do you expect from me Porpentina? You know the rules. You know that we do not interfere ...

\- I know, Mr. Graves. But maybe we could report it somewhere. To Non-Majs authorities.

\- Maybe I do not know their law, but I can tell you one thing. These children have a roof over their head, food, and maybe relative heat. Maybe not necessarily love, but nevertheless. Nobody will take them because they would only be a problem. In this matter, we do not differ at all.

\- Yes but…

\- Porpentina. As your supervisor, I forbid you to approach the Second Salemeres.

\- Yes, Mr. Graves.

Tina followed the man into the spacious office, where one of the walls hung a map. Divided into the districts of New York, it shined in gold. There was a pulsing white dot in the western part of the city, from which sparks were falling. Another flares on the outskirts of the map, in front of the gathered ones.

\- What is this…?

\- Let everybody take a partner and check their area. If you have any problems, please apparate to the nearest assembly point, okay?

\- Yes, sir!

Aurors ran out of the room, leaving Graves alone. He looked at the glowing points. One was closer to the center. Right next to ...


	4. Chapter 4

Percival dropped out of the office and dashed through the corridor. He hit someone by knocking him over. He turned his head to see Abernathy, head of Wand Permit Office scrambling out from the floor.

\- I'm very sorry! - he called, but he kept going, to which others gave way to him. Hardly his feet touched the sidewalk, he disapparated.

The gate was destroyed, bent inward. The entrance door ceased to exist. He ran home, calling his wife. He knew she was going to take time off, moving things from her sister's apartment. The floor burst just above the living room. There was rubble in the middle of the room, and a bloody hand stuck out beneath it. Legs buckled under Graves, but before he could think, he turned on his heel, blocking the attack with his shield. Wizard who attacked him struck with more spells until Percival took a step back. Driven by fury, he pushed the shield at the opponent and attacked. He struck spells at the intruder, sending pieces of furniture to him. The man quickly retreated to the garden. Graves ran after him, feeling hex whisper around his ear. Another hit him on the shoulder and then in the back. Behind them were pieces of the wall, metal rods and wood. He cast a protective spell, but lack of focus caused him to be too slow. The blow knocked him off his feet. A bloody trail was left on a piece of stone span. He felt the blood flood his ear and neck. He did not feel pain. The only thing he wanted at the moment was to avenge his wife. He shot the runner, disarming him. He laid out like a long one.

He dodged another hex, disarming another attacker. At the same moment he screamed _Protego_ , but he did not manage to turn in time and the spell hit him on the shoulder, knocking the bone.

\- Try to shoot someone in the back again!

Agatha fell out from behind the screen on the terrace, throwing counterspells, holding a shield in front of her. She petrificated the other attacker, wiping blood that flooded her eye with shirt. She turned to her husband, not understanding his terrified eyes. At the last moment he moved his hand, causing the third assailant to hit the fence, hitting it with a clatter. Without thinking, the woman caught Auror's arm and disapparated. They appeared in the middle of a busy city with the sun setting behind their backs. People were in a hurry, pouring in and out of the subway. Agatha tugged at the exhausted man and led him to the underground. In her mind, she summoned the tickets from the booth, promising herself that she would throw Non-Majs's money into the cash register. They stood on the platform, watched by passers-by. They were both dirty and dusty. Blood flew from her eyebrow and Percival had a nasty cut on the side of his shaved head. Besides, he barely stayed on his feet. Finally the train pulled up. They squeezed in. Agatha put her husband on the bench and crouched beside him.

She did not care about the attention they focused on. She saw Percival fighting with himself to stay conscious. With a trembling hand he ran over her face, whispering: _Episkey_. The woman embraced his hand, glancing to one side. But no one paid any attention to it. A few people gave them furtive glances, but nothing more than that.

\- Did they ... they wanted to hunt you down? Was it… Grindelwald?

Auror nodded, trying to find a position that would not be torture. His murmur and pain visible on his face made Agatha put her hands under his coat, fingers touching the twisted piece of rod, pushed just above his hip. She quickly wiped the bloody fingers in her black skirt. She pulled the end of the wand from the sleeve, but the man grabbed her hand tightly and shook his head. They reached the last station. As he left, Auror extended his fingers, whispering _Tergeo_ to the bench, soaked in his blood. Before they got out, there was no sign of it.

Agatha led them along the side streets, between the buildings. At last they came out onto a narrow street with tenement houses. They entered one of them, hidden in a dark corridor.

\- We have to go up the stairs. Third floor.

The man nodded and straightened up as much as he could. He had to pull himself together. The stairs were high and the wood slipped from years of use. His wife walking at his side, holding her hand outstretched in back, constantly repeating the cleaning spell in her mind. When they reached the apartment, they both barely stood on their feet. Agatha closed behind them and dropped all possible protective spells. She hoped she remembered everything. She threw off her coat and moved down the corridor behind the bloody traces of a hand on the wall.

Graves sat in the kitchen at the table and waited for her. Carefully she pulled off his coat, paying attention to the dislocated shoulder. She watched a piece of metal that protruded from the back. Fortunately. She called the dressmaker's scissors and carefully cut the shirt.

\- You have to cut it and pull it out. Diffindo is enough.

\- I can hurt you. My hands are shaking.

\- Just do it.

The woman pulled out her wand and put it on the rod. She took a deep breath and whispered a spell under her breath. The metal glowed and after a while she could hear a metallic impact on the floor. The second part was still in the back of the wounded.

\- Pull out the rest.

\- You are as pale as death. You've lost too much blood. How do I get it out ... I'll call for help.

\- No! Pull.

Agatha has learned over the years that Percival's cry was as rare as a smile, so despite the fear, she pointed her wand at him and whispered _Accio rod_. She threw away the bloodied object and knelt before her husband.

\- _Ferula –_ her voicewas shaking even more than her hands.

When the bandages wrapped his torso tight, he made something like a moan mixed with a sigh of relief. His face was even paler. He rest his healthy arm on a table as a support to not fall over.

\- My shoulder.

She stood behind him and, with her scuffed hands pressed to his back and arm, set the bones.

Percival sat with his eyes closed for a moment, giving up to her hands and spells without a word. She closed the wound on his head and washed it, pulling off his damaged shirt.

\- I need to go to the assembly point.

\- You're crazy. You won't even be able to Apparate.

\- You'll help me.

\- No Percival. I won't let you be killed.

\- I'm the Chief of Security. It's my duty. Just ... give me a shirt. Please.

Agatha knew she wouln't be able to persuade him to stay. Not now when he didn't know if his men were safe. She stared at his bruised body and dark circles under his eyes. Nevertheless, he was determined.

\- They're my people, Agatha. I am their commander. Morale are low anyway. Everyone is nervous and doesn't know what the next day will bring. Everyone is waiting for Grindelwald's move. For death... They think they can hide it. But I can see it in their eyes.

The woman gave up and called in her mind one of her brother-in-law's shirts. It was a bit too narrow, but could be fastened. Percival put on his waistcoat and examined his coat. Agatha brushed it a bit, but he impatiently took it and headed for the exit. When they were downstairs, he stretched out his hand to her.

\- Go straight back here. We'll meet in the evening. If I'm not coming back for a long time, I will send someone to you. Please, don't move from here. And I will disapparate us, you only keep the course.

The assembly point was located in an abandoned building after the Non-Majs's printing house. Graves walked among the groups that began to form with returning Aurors. He talked to exhausted people listening to them carefully. He thanked everyone, making sure that everyone received help if necessary. At last he stood, leaning against the desk, trying to focus his hazy, double seeing eyes.

\- Who is behind the attacks? - he looked (he hoped) for his deputy.

\- Everyone claimed to be the Acolytes of Grindelwald.

\- All of them were caught? Smith, did you get those from Groove Garden?

\- Two sir, the third one could not be seen. We found the fourth body under the rubble. Well-known trader of forbidden objects.

\- The trader? – it sounded like decoy.

\- None of the captured was trained in black magic. Actually, the only thing they did was try to get the most attention.

\- Has any of Non-Majs suffered?

\- There are a dozen or so, battered, but everyone is alive and will recover quickly.

\- Where are Rogers and Allen?

There was silence among the Aurors. The couple who disappeared was the most recent acquisition of the office. It was only a year that they were granted permissions to work in the field.

\- Why did they go together?

A few people exchanged meaningful glances. Percival swore under his breath. The kids who came out of Ilvermorny were getting more stupid. They entertained themselves with bravado and were afraid of nothing. And while relationships were not banned among the Aurors, it was known that they were dangerous to them. Love make fools from lovers. And he clearly expressed himself in this matter and so far everyone respected it. They had to find them. As soon as possible.

\- Get back to the office. Write down the reports and help the Obliviators. Then ... then go home. Rest.

\- Smith, Johnson, Hackley! We're looking for Rogers and Allen. Wait for me outside.

\- Yes, sir!

The men went outside, talking quietly to each other. The hall was slowly emptying.

\- Miss Goldstein!

Tina stopped in mid-step, giving Annie a sign to go without her. She improved her hair to hide the bleeding slash on her head. But that was the first thing Graves noticed. He gently put a hand over a cut.

 _\- Episkey._

\- Thank you, sir.

\- Listen ... your sister ...

\- Queenie.

\- Yes. She works in Permits?

\- Yes. Did she ... did she do something? - Tina's thoughts began a crazy pageant _. He found out about her gift? About the fact that she overheard him? That they know he have someone? Mercy Lewis ..._

\- No. None of these things. I need her help.

\- Help, Mr. Graves?

Tina looked with surprise at the distracted gaze of her superior. He shivered slightly, as if he could not stand on his feet after an overnight drink.

\- Is everything alright, sir? You look really pale. Maybe I'll send for Medi…

\- No!

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt that he could not keep this facade for a long time. He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and scrawled the address on it with the Non-Maj's fountain pen.

\- Tell her to go under this address. But tell here to apparate few blocks before. My wife is there. Please, ask her to keep her company until we're done. I don't want her to be alone. She can stay overnight, we have guest rooms.

\- Your ... wife?

\- Yes, Tina. I have a wife. But I would like ... that you and your sister... That you keep it to yourself. For her safety. And your too.

\- Mr. Graves ...? – _so that woman wasn't just his lover but wife…_

\- Please.

Tina nodded and left quickly. Percival put his hand under his coat, sensing soaked bandages. He clenched his teeth and moved to join the search team.


	5. Chapter 5

Queenie looked at the piece of paper and the building number. As promised, she burned the parchment and went inside. In the stairwell, the sounds of residents and her footsteps were heard. _I wonder how Non-Majs lives_ ... She stood before number 12 and knocked an agreed password.

\- Thank God!

A woman fell on her, a few years older than her. Her hair lighter than her own were tangled and dirty from dust. She pulled out her wand instantly, but Queenie raised her hands.

\- I'm Tina Goldstein's sister.

\- T-tina's?

\- Mr. Graves is her boss. He asked me to come to you.

\- Oh ... Do you know where he is now?

\- Teenie said hr was looking for someone else.

The woman dropped her hand and let the guest in. Instinctively, she took her coat from her, hanging it in the hallway. Queenie heard her every thought, but, in Tina's words, she refrained from commenting.

„ _Percy … where are you? What will happen to us if something happens to him? How stupid I was. We've lost so much time. I lost him … „_

\- I'm Queenie.

\- Agatha.

\- A beautiful flat.

\- Thank you. Actually, this is my sister Myra's apartment. I do not know why I'm saying this ... I'm sorry, I'm a bit nervous.

Agatha looked back at the empty corridor. If she had not promised her husband, she would have been there for a long time. She wanted to keep her word. Her thoughts were interrupted by the guest and her delicate voice.

\- Honey. You look terribly tired. Maybe you will take a bath and I will make tea and something to eat?

Queenie picked up the paper bag she'd brought and settled in the kitchen. At first, Agatha wanted to beg smiling blonde girl to get out of the house, but on the other hand she could not stand this emptiness and silence, waiting for the smallest sign of life from her husband. She caught the chair, feeling dizzy. Queenie was right next to her, leading her to the couch. She put the woman down, putting the pillows under her feet.

 _"Child ... oh no ... I can not lose them both ..."_

Queenie barely refrained from loud sighs. She had to calm down Mrs. Graves as soon as possible. If she was expecting a child, the events of today would seriously damage her health. And they could harm the baby.

She scanned the contents of the cupboard, finding everything she needed. She brewed a herbal decoction and evaluated it by smell. It came out quite strong, but not enough to threaten pregnancy. Despite the weak protest, she persuaded the woman to drink everything. It did not take a few minutes, and Agatha slept deeply. Her pretty face looked calm. Wrinkles on the forehead and between the eyebrows have smoothed out. No wonder Graves fell in love with her. Listening to her thoughts, Queenie saw in the imagination a brave woman, ready for anything but to lose her beloved. She blamed herself constantly for leaving, and how badly she treated him.

Tina's sister sighed when she saw such devotion. She did not dream about anything else but her to have such love. She dreamt about the family she longed for since they were alone with Tina.

She returned to the kitchen and began to cook dinner. Agatha will sleep for two hours. She wondered how the Aurors were dealing with current events. Especially her sister. She was so scared when she heard about the attack. Then the prisoners began to run down and she was given the task of checking each one and finding them in the register of visitors. But to everyone's surprise and horror at the same time, each of them was a citizen of America. Most were pureblood wizards. An ideal profile of followers of a fanatic like Grindelwald.

Trying to light up thoughts and forget about the sorcerer, Queenie took charge of the cleanup, silently turning on the radio standing on the kitchen window. The flat was a bit grim, but spacious. Three bedrooms, a living room and two bathrooms. Together with his sister they could have dreamed about such a place, but on the other hand their own corner was not a bowel. And it was much more joyful.

Everything shone when there was a commotion from the living room. Queenie came running to see Agatha kneel over the broken mug and cry.

No longer thinking, Tina's sister knelt beside her and hugged her tightly. She whispered the soothing words and swayed her gently.

\- Eat something, I'll prepare a bath for you.

\- O-okay.

But when Queenie came back from the bathroom, Mrs. Graves was sitting over a full plate with empty eyes.

\- What happened honey? You don't like it?

\- I'm sorry, Queenie. Just…

\- You're worried about Mr. Graves. I know. But he is worried about you even more. What will I tell him when he returns and finds you unconscious? I know you've gone through a lot today. You should take care of yourself even more.

\- You're right ... Tears will not work.

Agatha rose, wiping her face. She stepped through the living room into the corridor. She took her coat. The clock somewhere in the apartment hit 11 in the evening. Percy left 6 hours ago. God knows what kind of alley he was lying in, bleeding out. She had to find him. Queenie stood in her way.

\- Oh no, no, no. I am not allowed to let you out.

\- Excuse me, Queenie, but I have to ...

A characteristic knocking followed the corridor. Both women jumped. At last Queenie, with her wand ready, stood at the door, ready to defend Agatha behind her. However, when door opened, she moved away quickly, letting in Graves, who took his wife in his arms and kissed her deeply.

Agatha stood for a moment unsure whether what she could see and feel was true.

\- Percy?

\- Yes darling. I love you so much...

„ _I'm at home. Finally at home. I love you ... I love you over my life, my miracle."_

Queenie smiled at Auror's thoughts in her head. But after a while, silence fell. She tried not to listen to the voices in her head or those outside. She took advantage of the earlier proposal and went to the guest room.

Percival watched as Agatha bustled around, reheating the food her new friend had prepared. In the end, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. He kissed every ankle on her knuckles, resting his weary head against her stomach. She began to stroke him on the head, dragging her fingers around the place where there was a thin scar, a souvenir after today. She knelt beside him and began to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt. Already at the first piece of clothing, she could see the graphite material turned almost black. On the shirt the stain reached the buttons. He shuddered when she touched the bandages. She pulled him to his feet and led him to the master bedroom. He did not protest.

She put him on the bed, pulling off his shoes and socks. Gently, she pushed him on the mattress and cut the bandages.

\- Volnero Sutur.

The edges of the wound came together and sewn together with a shiny, thin, hair-like thread. She should have used it right away. How could she expose him ... A few hot tears fell on the man's stomach, ripping him from temporary dullness. He wanted to get up, but she would not let him.

\- Agatha.

\- Please, lie down. You need to rest.

\- You too.

The woman smiled faintly and went to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. She took a copper basin from the cupboard under the window and filled it with warm water, adding grated soap chips. She put a small towel inside and stirred it energetically to create foam. She returned to the room, sure that Percival had fallen asleep at that time, but none of these things. He lay there staring at the canopy above himself. Empty look in his eyes. She knew that look. A look of man who lost his colleagues. She made the decision that she must convince him to talk, or he would shut himself again. And he will suffocate from everything. She sat down next to him, grabbing a cloth and washing the battered body of her husband.

\- Everyone came back?

\- Two novices have disappeared. I just hope they just ran away and they did not come back in shame. There were no signs of a fight. We were looking for 3 hours. In the morning we will start again.

\- You should rest for a few days. Sorrow can replace you, it is his responsibility.

\- The president requires my presence.

Agatha unbuttoned his suit trousers, which were suitable for being thrown away, but Graves caught her hands.

\- I can make it to the bathtub. And undress myself.

\- You can not wet the bandages.

In fact, he did not have the strength to argue with her. He was so tired that the only thing he dreamed about was a sleep. A long sleep. He felt strangely calm giving up completely. As if for a few moments, feeling the affectionate touch of his wife, he found peace. He fought his whole life. Always alert and ready for action. Maybe it's time to give up. Though for a moment.

His eyelids became heavier and heavier. He shivered with cold. In the end, however, the heat began to spill over his body as if he was immersed in a warm bath. Agatha's voice was so far away.

\- Percy? Percy!

A strong slap on his cheek woke him for a moment. He looked surprised at the woman bending over him. There was horror in her eyes.

\- I thought ... sorry. I panicked. You're so pale and your lips almost blue… You look like…

\- You are so beautiful - Percival forced himself to raise his hand and remove the tangled hair from her face. Agatha smiled, calmed down. She saw him confused and probably raving, but it did not bother her. He lost too much blood, his head was probably light.

\- I need to tell you something Percy ...

-Yes?

\- I ... I mean, I ... I'm pregnant Percy.

For a moment he thought he had heard wrong. He was surprised by the fear in her eyes. As if she did something bad. The thought hit him and in the next second gave him vigor. He sat up awkwardly, swaying. Agatha tried to calm him down, but he knelt in front of her, lifting up the shirt she was wearing. Her usually flat stomach, now slightly rounded up and bigger. It was slightly hard to touch. Tense. On the right he noticed a bruise that spilled over her hip. Anger boiled in him. He wanted to kill whoever did it. He stood up, unbuttoning her shirt. He pulled her clothes off his wife's arms and began to look through her new "acquisitions." She had another furious burgundy bruise on her shoulder and collarbone. One of them had the shape of an irregular star, after the hex.

Percival took Agatha's face and kissed her. The thought of being a father grew slowly in him. The events of the day before were just coming to him. But he found the strength to overcome fatigue and take his wife to a bath. The water was still warm.

\- You will tighten the stitching.

\- You will have someone to mother.

The woman, after all, smiled, letting herself be undressed. It was a strange experience. As if the time of separation never existed. Percival looked at the slim figure of his wife for a moment, unable to marvel at the fact that his child was growing up in this small protrusion.

He offered her a hand, to carefully enter the bathtub.

\- Percy. I can handle it. Go to bed.

\- You can slip.

\- Put a second towel. Please.

He did as she asked, to her surprise. He was the one who put everything on his own and controlled everything like during work. That was one of the reasons for her leaving. They often clashed with each other. Agatha, however, came to the conclusion that it was high time to compromise. Percival left the door ajar. „Just in case".

The woman took the sponge and began to scrub. She wanted to leave as soon as possible. She bathed herself expressly. Less than a quarter of an hour was a record for her. When she left, she actually slipped, but she caught the edge of the tub. She was so tired.

Entering the bedroom she smelled the scent of a casserole. Her stomach twitched. Percival sat patiently in a chair by her dresser, not wanting to lie down before she came back, to stay awake. Seeing through her long nightgown the outline of her body, he swallowed saliva loudly. He had no idea he would miss her so much. And that he will discover it only when she came back. Fatigue, however, took over, for which he was grateful. He did not want to hurt her and the child.

Agatha sat down on the bed, covering her feet with a fluffy quilt. It was getting colder in the evenings. She took a plate from the bedside table and began to consume food. She looked at her husband, admiring how he could look so dazzlingly good, even though he was a hematoma. Almost all his back was covered with a purple bruise, which overlapped the previously worn shoulder.

\- Will you come to me?

He nodded, rising slowly. She could swear that his knees were creaking. The mattress next to her buckled when he lay down gingerly. He came close to her, placing his heavy head on her shoulder, pressing his face to her chest. He kissed her gently through the fabric. Agatha bit her lip. She was thirsty for his touch and mouth.

She looked at his face, which made a strange expression. Slight smile. He carefully placed his arm down her abdomen, his hand embracing his protruding part.

She did not even notice when he fell asleep. He just let out a satisfied sigh and immediately floated away. She set the empty plate down and lay down a little lower. She put her arm around his shoulders and put her head to her black hair. In the background, the bell began to ring. Midnight…


	6. Chapter 6

Woolworth corridors were empty. Only the staff was on their feet, cleaning before the arrival of the first employees and clients. Recently, more and more worried wizards waited in the corridors, which caused them to be cluttered with benches now.

The sight of the Director of Security was not at all surprised by the goblin standing by the elevator. He spoke with a friend who was responsible for the window cleaning group.

\- Good morning.

\- Morning? I would swear that all of New York sleeps well, Mr. Graves.

\- Yes, Red. Well, some do not have it so well.

\- You're telling me that? Department?

\- Yes please.

They got in and Red twisted the wheel with his cane. He glanced at the man standing by and his strangely inclined figure. However, he didn't say a word. He had seen him much more beaten up. He remembered him from the kid when his father brought him and his brothers to work. All the men in their family were Aurors. Well, almost.

Percival got out, trying to walk on a straight leg, not to stretch the seams. In the morning he administered diptam, but he knew that he would need much more time to heal.

Under his office, one of the Aurors was sleeping on the bench, wrapped in a leather cloak. His fair hair fell on his unshaven face. Graves shook his head at the sight of his deputy. He opened the door and shook the man's shoulder.

\- August.

\- Mhm? Just a minute Ada, please ...

Percival raised an eyebrow. He shrugged and pulled out his wand. The tip flared slightly, beginning to burn the forehead of the sleeping man. In the end, the skin turned red and the auror jumped to his feet, aiming at the intruder.

\- I would kill you ten times. Or transmuted a dozen or so.

\- Shit Graves ... I sat on the reports all night. The bureaucracy will kill us sooner than those fucking Acolytes.

\- You in?

\- Yes.

August followed the boss and immediately threw himself on the couch in the further part of the room. He waved his wand, trying to open the bar hidden in the wall.

\- It's closed to you. Save yourself.

\- I'm Irish. I was born with alcoholism.

He tried again and again, but in the end Graves waved his hand and the wall turned, revealing a glass case with a battery of glass bottles of all sizes.

\- I need to get promoted. Nobody gives me such things in thank you.

\- And good, then you wouldn't leave the office at all.

\- All in all, right.

Sorrow twirled his wand in the air and after a while a full glass appeared on the small black coffee table. He drank it and filled it again.

\- On the desk you have a report for Picquery.

\- I'm reading it. You didn't write about ...

\- About your house, which is suitable for demolition because you threw on it a damn spell exploding against Apparition ...? Shit, Graves, what if it was one of ours?

\- Apart from you, Tina and Seraphina, no one knows where I live.

\- But the place was on the map.

\- No one is assigned to it.

\- Anyway, you just have to write something neat about where you were. Maybe Agatha could ...

\- Do not mix her with it.

\- Listen, Perc. What actually happened there? The place looked like a battlefield. No one else fought. At least not so fierce.

\- I'd like to know that. I don't know what they expected. Me in the middle of the day?

\- Listen ... Or maybe they had Agatha in mind? If they had her ...

\- That's why she'll come back to her sister. Myra has always disliked me, so she will make sure that Agatha doesn't come near me.

\- I don't know. I can't imagine Aggie on the bench.

\- Now she has no choice.

Sorrow drained the third glass and looked at his friend sharply. He knew what plans he had for similar accidents. If it got too hot. It was the only thing that could divide them. And they did not agree on many issues.

\- You don't think about clearing her memory ...

\- She's pregnant.

August was speechless. He thought that despite 10 years of marriage, it was their conscious choice not to have children, though he had heard Agatha more than once that she would like to change this state.

\- Wow ...

\- Yes.

Graves got up from the desk, sitting down in front of his friend. He called himself a firewhiskey and took a sip. Sorrow frowned, seeing the grimace of pain on his boss's face. He was stubborn as an ox, and even if he was dying, the hospital was the last place where he would go. He shook auror's hand with a wide smile.

\- Congratulations.

\- Thank you.

\- Seriously, how did you react?

\- I don't understand.

\- You know ... You like unconventionally to react to different ... situations. When she invited you on a date, you almost laughed at her.

\- It was 12 years ago. I was stupid. How should a husband react to the fact that his wife is pregnant? It's probably a normal state of affairs.

\- In your case, not really. Given that your wife's family doesn't know how you really look, except of her parents and siblings. And that no one has the slightest idea that the Director of Magical Security has a wife at all. Actually, a large part of people suspected we have an affair.

Graves choked on his drink, putting the glass down on the table. He hasn't heard that yet.

\- Well, they were still betting Tina, but they probably gave it up. We were better topic. Speaking of romances. How did you pick the ring without Agatha's knowledge?

\- What?

\- Well, you know…

\- Why do you ask?

August rolled his eyes and stood up. His leg was hurting him again. He looked at the puzzled friend.

\- Seriously, Graves. Sometimes I have the impression that your skull is thicker than troll's. I want to buy a ring for Adelaide.

\- Girl from the reception?

\- Uh-huh.

\- I thought you said it was a fleeting affair.

\- She shot a cupid arrow well.

Percival looked at his friend strangely, finishing drying the glass. August began to laugh, his eyes were already a bit misty.

\- It's a pity you don't see your face. Hypocrite. "Love blinds. It mixes the senses. It can even kill. " Do you remember? And then you went to your own wedding.

Graves smiled, barely perceptible. Even he couldn't combine work and home life well, so it all agreed with his belief that Aurors should be less attached to others. Especially in romantic way. But love was stronger than reason.

\- Take one of her rings and take it to the jeweler.

August smiled broadly and thanked with a nod. He looked at the mirror in the corner of the room and waved his wand, hiding the bar.

\- Tina ... always not in time.

There was a definite knocking in the room. Graves let the guest in and sat down at the desk.

\- Mr. Graves, Augustus. Any news?

\- No. We're waiting for the rest and we're moving.

\- You know, Graves, I thought you could interview those from Groove Garden. We'll manage in the search.

Tina frowned. She looked at her boss, who began to think about it. It was possible to get to know it after his eyebrows are approaching each other and his lips are raised in one corner, as if he was biting the inside of his cheek.

\- Personally, I think that this isn't a good idea. Someone has deliberately let them there. Maybe that's what they expect.

Graves looked at her. She always had her head on the back and a practical approach. That's why he liked her and turned a blind eye to her stumbling. But this time he was going to take on the enemy's hand to satisfy the desire to hear the truth. Even if it was half of it.

\- Go. If something happens, send a message. Check their apartments, check all the hiding places. If they escaped, let them come back free. They will be brought to justice and accused fairly. Let nobody touch them.

Tina nodded and left the office, followed by Sorrow. Percival looked again at the report. He couldn't lie. Nor to hide the truth. He took a clean piece of parchment and wrote it in a sloping handwriting only a little coloring. After all, he didn't save Agatha and he didn't take them to a safe place but no one knew that ... He didn't want the situation to be questioned. Even Congress had already had a mole.

* * *

He folded the report and put it in the file. As he left, he glanced at his watch. It was 7.

The corridors were slowly filling up. The secretariat smelled of coffee, but the secretary disappeared somewhere, so Graves laid the papers on her desk and walked quickly to the elevator.

Coming to the underground, he wondered about the questions he had for captured. He had to skillfully direct the conversation. But when he saw the first one of caught men, he cursed under his breath. The man was sitting in a chair, his head tilted to one side and saliva dripping from his mouth. His eyes were completely empty.

\- Who interrogated him?

\- Ms. Pendragon.

\- Pendragon? Someone supervised her?

\- Yes sir, guard Jenkins.

\- Lead me to the other one.

The stuttering man led auror to the other cell. The second of the arrested had a slightly more conscious look. Seeing the Director, however, he began to whine like a wounded animal.

Open.

But sir, this man is dangerous.

Graves looked significantly at the guard. He had to be new when he questioned his words. Seeing man's lips and cloudy eyes, he pulled out the universal key and opened the cell.

Stand here.

Auror pulled out his wand and walked carefully to the man curled up in the corner.

Who sent you to Groove Garden?

I-I don't know. Please, I don't know anything. They only asked if I wanted to earn.

Who asked?

A man with a strange accent, like a German ... and a woman. American.

What did you have to do?

I don't know ... They just asked if I wanted to make a profit and then I was lying next to a wall, my head was breaking. And aurors came. They took me here.

It is a very convincing, isn't it? There is no proof of using Imperius. You have to try harder.

Graves felt the growing frustration that began with the trembling hand, making the wand lightly illuminate the dark cell.

P-Please, take my memories, I will gladly give them back.

They are useless. If someone has really charmed you, he had to clear your memory. But we can check it out.

Percival nodded to the guard and he conjured chains. Man began to howl again, begging for mercy. Graves finally stunned him and together they moved him to the upper floor to the interrogation room.

Is Jenkins at work?

He took sick day. He was vomiting like a cat yesterday.

Call Pendragon. Immediately.

Yes, sir.

When the man left, Graves woke up prisoner, bringing a metal chair to him so that he could look straight into his fuzzy eyes.

I-I'm begging ... she'll kill me like that one.

Who?

Woman. British. Auror.

Have you seen her doing it?

She took us both here. She told me to look. He also didn't remember anything. She tortured him until he went crazy.

Percival stood up, walking around the room. Pendragon have crossed the line too far. He'll deal with her later.

When did you lose your memory?

Two days ago.

Percival pulled out his wand and put it on the sweaty, dirty temple of the detainee. With a bundle of memories he approached "Sieve" as the bowl of memories was commonly called, and threw it into the swirling smoke. He looked at the image forming on the surface, but it was indistinct and chopped. Like a movie tape. However, there were a few details. A scar on man's face, a gray eye painted with a dark shadow. Graves moved back to the memories that were intact. Card tables.

Where do you play?

W-what?

Where do you play cards?

T-the Fat Hog.

Auror stirred the memories again, recalling the freshest ones. He saw himself and Agatha, spitting spells. Then the facade of the building and dust falling around. Five aurors. Two people pulling man from the garden, one kneeling next to him and two raising the body from the house.

Arrest. Jenkins dragging him across the floor to the interrogation room. Iris Pendragon, with her sleeves pulled up to the elbows, throwing _Crucio_ on a fellow prisoner. The man, however, didn't look like he said anything but shouted.

What did he say? The other one?

Nothing. He writhed so long until blood went all around. He screamed and then just hung and looked like he was dead.

He didn't die. He survived.

It's not life ... it would be better if she would kill him.

A British Auror finally entered the room. She cast an indifferent gaze on the prisoner, staring at the Director of Security.

You called me.

As far as I know, I didn't give you permission to interrogate the detainees.

You didn't have to. The president did it.

What?!

You probably forget that someone is above you, Graves. You are not god here. So, wife? And I heard you're campaigning against romantic relationships among auror.

You interrogated one of the Groove Garden agitators. What did he tell you?

Same as this pest here. That he remembers nothing. _Imperius_ , for sure. Someone cleaned his memory.

And you decided to restore them with another curse?

Iris came closer to him. She had blue eyes. A different shade than the one in the gambler's memories. She leaned against the desk he was standing at, bending down so that he could smell her perfume.

Do you know a better way? Well, buddy, what do you remember? - she walked to sitting man, pulling out her wand with cruel smile only he could see.

Please ... please! I don't know anything.

If you want to have a clear conscience, I can take care of it - she turned around to auror.

Leave. And don't go to detention ever again. As the Director of Security, I forbid you to take part in this matter.

Under what complaint?

Chicanery.

The woman snorted, blushing on her pale face. She sat down on the chair and looked expectantly at the auror. She wasn't leaving anyway.

Please, in that case I'd like to see how you do it.

Percival gritted his teeth, but approached the man, concentrating on what he wanted to get out of him. The eyes of the chained to the chair widened in fear. Sweat was dripping from his greasy hair and dripping down his face.

 _Legilimens_.

The man's thoughts were chaotic. There were shrieks of plead for not to let Pendragon take him in turns or that he remembers nothing. There were also thoughts about family, children. On card debt and people who want to collect these debts. And there was one more thought. A thought repeated like a mantra, under the cover of the rest. It looked like a scratch on the wall. Graves imagined that he was reaching this scratch. Detached from his body, he felt only a strange warmth.

Suddenly, only one thought drowned out. The cry of agony. Auror tried to reach the scratch, though the growing scream began to shake him. Imaginary fingers ran over the crack, which parted. He saw only hair in it. Long, blond hair. Something blocked him. He wanted to break the bond, but his mind was stuck, a scream of stabbing pain resonating in his skull, as if he had been tortured. He focused all his will, imagining that he was falling down.

They stood in the room. Iris was aiming at the man with her wand. Graves silently threw the _protego_ between them, eliminating the curse. He could feel the blood in his mouth that ran down his nose.

Pendragon!

You see. Your burying in the brain has no strength. Do you think you opened it? Only curse can do that. He was wiped clean.

This man knows nothing. The one who tinkered with his mind secured himself well.

Percival sank back into a chair, massaging the temples in which blood pounded painfully. He shuddered feeling nauseous. He had to pull himself together. He sent memo for the guard to come and take man to his cell.


	7. Chapter 7

Three cards were added to the investigation board. A photo of Fat Pig, a dingy bar in Brooklyn, and two sketches of a part of a man's face and a scar on it, and a gray eye of a woman. Percival stared at both pictures, trying to remember as many details as possible. But there were too little of them.

He looked, but he had the feeling that he could not see. Tinnitus was growing. A soft voice came from inside the room. However, he could not understand individual words. He lifted his tired eyes to the board, last time tracing the lines of the scar.

He rose sharply, catching his head. A chicken egg-sized bump pulsed in his back.

\- Lie down.

He smiled sleepily at the sight of his beloved face. She turned her back to him and reached to the table for something. He ran his hand over her long blond hair. _A gap in the mind_.

\- Boss? Boss ...

Someone was shaking him gently. Percival opened his eyes, staring at John Apricot's face in surprise. The young man straightened up, embarrassed, to hide his wand behind the strap.

\- We found the trace of Rogers and Allen. The rest are waiting on the spot. Are you all right? You don't look good.

\- Will you give me a moment, John?

\- Sure. I'm waiting outside.

Graves rose heavily, pressing his hand to the painful side. He went to the mirror and looked at his gray face. He had dried blood under his nose and chin. He could barely go straight, feeling the pain in his temples. He rubbed his face and cleaned the collar. He put on a coat by joining Apricot.

\- They were in Andy's apartment. At Bolden.

Percival nodded, heading quickly for the exit. He had to be in the open air as soon as possible. Apricot almost ran by his side.

\- Boss, I wanted to ask ... my wife has a round birthday. And it's ... it's hard for her to take care of kids and to prepare something special. And she doesn't feel very well lately. And this ... I wanted to ask if I could get free tomorrow?

Graves looked at the man with clenched lips.

\- Apricot, do you know that it's getting hot? And we need everyone?

\- I know, boss. I promise to take someone else's change next day. Besides, nothing is happening right now. In a week, Christmas. I know the rules… and in general. We haven't supposed to... But I love her!

Percival couldn't resist, laughing aloud. John stopped short. As one of the younger auror, he never experienced a similar phenomenon. Several people leaving the Congress building looked at them. Graves put his hands on the young Auror's shoulders and patted him.

\- I feel like a monster. Take free John. Take care of your family. Family is the most important.

Apricot smiled, feeling a little uncomfortable. He didn't think that his boss was heartless, but he didn't seem too open to people. When John came, he was in the training group of Augustus, who was the complete opposite of Graves. So he didn't have much opportunity to know another face of the Director. Auror grabbed the boss's shoulder and Apparated them.

They burst into the living room, dispelling scattered papers and boxes. August and Tina were looking at something on the desk. Anne and Ronald cleaned the scorched wall from which one could see the writing.

\- Sorrow?

Auror approached Graves with a stack of papers.

\- We don't know if it's Rogers and Allen. Someone was here for sure. And it's a long time. Besides, we don't know where exactly they lived and whether they lived together or not. The bathroom has old traces of blood. Older than the time of their disappearance.

\- What about the wall?

\- We can't see anything yet. But someone wanted to erase the tracks.

\- So we don't have anything ... Damn it!

Aurors looked at each other without commenting. Everyone was frustrated. Time passed, nothing happened, but they still felt the breath of impending danger.

\- Who is going to the Christmas ball?

Everyone looked at Smith who came into the room eating a sandwich. Seeing the grave faces, he bit another bite and began to speak with his mouth full.

\- What? I think ahead. After all, it's only 8 days. Boss?

Graves looked up in surprise, noticing that they were in the Auror Office. He leaned against the column, staring unseeingly at the copy of the map from the main office. An exposure level indicator was next to it, flinching between two states.

\- Boss? You have blood...

Smith stood before Percival, raising his finger to his nose and pointing at him. The man pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. He nodded in thanks and began to listen to quiet conversations.

\- The President expects at least representatives of the Departments to appear - he heard his voice, but he had the impression that it wasn't him that was talking.

\- Unfortunately, I have no choice and I will be present, so if you all have plans, I can sit on your behalf.

\- Oh no, if they will serve this liqueur again like last year, you can count on me.

\- You're alcoholic - Solice threw a colorful chain over the lamp, throwing a nut in the Deputy Director.

\- Me? You don't remember how it was two years ago, Annie?

Graves stared at the mocking subordinates wondering when he had moved away from them. He felt the tickle of paper around his neck. Anne wrapped his neck with another chain.

\- You look good in red, Mr. Graves.

The man smiled weakly.

\- Look, this man is smiling! Impossible!

Sorrow took a sip from the flask and swirl Tina in a dance attempt. She smiled, embarrassed, but she twisted around her axis and stopped, laughing. Seeing the absent gaze of the Director who, surprisingly, as in the old days sat with them in the common room, she nodded slightly to Augustus.

\- Perc? - the deputy stood on the other side of the column, leaning towards the auror.

\- Huh?

\- You look terrible. Maybe go back home. And stay also tomorrow. I will replace you. That's why I am here.

\- I blocked the bar.

Sorrow laughed, muttering the "bastard" under his breath.

\- No, seriously.

\- You're right. I think I'll go home.

He felt like in a dream. Or like this one time, when they were still serving in the Department of Wanted Letters with Sorrow, just accepted, when they had drunk so much that they did not remember the evening or how they got to August's apartment. They also did not remember how they slept in one bed, Graves wrapped tightly in a blanket and August, naked, in a sheet wrapped around his hips. Everyone was looking for them the next day. They were found by Agatha, who was so angry that she didn't speak to both for a week, although she blamed mainly Sorrow.

* * *

There was a conversation from the back of the apartment. Clearly, Myra's voice was heard and child shouting around the house. Percival froze, hanging his coat. The youngest niece of Agatha, Eleonore, stood in the hallway. She ran to the man and threw herself on his leg. Percival instinctively lifted her up.

\- Hello, Elle.

\- Hello, uncle. Mom said you shouldn't called me that. She said she gave me beautiful name to use it not shorten it.

Percival smiled with half of his mouth and took girl with him towards sitting room.

\- What's up?

The girl leaned close to his ear, covering her mouth with hand so that no one would hear.

\- I broke two vases as I flew on Jonathan's broom.

\- You shouldn't be flying on a broom around the house ...

\- I know. But mother doesn't let me go outside. Can I fly here?

\- Well. Okay. Just be careful.

The girl squealed with delight and jumped off, running into the hall, where a small broom stood. Percival, seeing the fair-haired, bowl-cut head, sat on the couch, glancing over the boy's shoulder.

\- What do you read, John?

\- Transmutation textbook.

\- How you doing?

\- Terribly. Professor Blackthorn constantly torments us with the transmutation of a jug into a rabbit. I mean, those who can't do it ...

\- If you want, I can teach you on holidays. We will probably have to come, so ...

\- Really ?!

The man smiled. He was much easier with children than with adults. He didn't have to spread the aura of domination around them, because they still respected him. Before them, he didn't have to be ... stiff. At each meeting of the growing herd of Myra, Auror himself discovered that he really liked children. More than adults. They were sincere, they didn't pretend to be someone they are not (not counting two teenagers) and they didn't wear masks.

Something was coming fast from the corridor. None too soon, Percival caught the girl by the collar of her dress, pulling her from the broom, which shattered inside the fireplace.

The noise brought women from the guest room. Myra stopped dead, seeing her brother-in-law holding her terrified daughter in the air. Hannah emerged from the kitchen, one of the teenagers, raising her head from the magazine she was reading.

\- On Mercy Lewis! What is going on here?!

\- My broom ... - the girl clung to Graves and began to cry, wiping her eyes and nose in his vest. He almost dropped her when she clenched her fist on the wounded side. Agatha quickly passed her sister and took Eleonore in her arms.

Percival went to the fireplace and muttered _Reparo_ , trying not to listen to Myra's whining, who fell into her usual accusatory tone. Humming in the ears, painful throbbing at the temples and her high voice was too much. He turned around, putting on the most serious face and raised his wand up.

\- Myra. Please, stop talking. Now.

His voice was threateningly quiet. It always worked better than a scream. Her eyes rested on his fingers holding the black wood.

\- Children, dress up.

\- But mom!

\- Jonathan. Now, we still have shopping to do.

Agatha, torn between her sister and her marital solidarity, did not speak, leading Eleonore to her elder siblings. When they were ready to go out, she went to her husband, who was still standing by the fireplace, clutching the repaired broom in his hand. When she pulled it out of his hand, it was broken in half. She looked at him, smiling warmly, fixing wooden handle.

\- Percy?

At last he looked into her green eyes and returned the smile. She kissed him gently on the cheek and put her hand on his neck. It always relaxed him.

\- I'm going with Myra. I'll be in two hours. Maybe faster.

The man only nod his head.

\- He's ill?

\- What?

\- Percival. It's two o'clock. As far as I know, you always said that he never goes back earlier than five.

\- Myra ... are you really unable to let go? My husband comes back faster and you complain? You? He is not even your husband! You see each other several times a year, could not you be kind to him?

\- I just can't watch you being wasted with him. Kitty…

\- I'm not wasting myself. These four months have changed a lot. I have changed. I look back and see that I was only thinking about myself. He is not without guilt and I want to work it out with him. But I can't expect it will change from day to day. If I had kept us together ...

\- You can't blame yourself for a guy with a heart of stone.

\- It's not true. He has a responsible, hard work. Thanks to him, you, me, your children ... we are all safe. You can't be someone like that and have a heart in your hand. But you don't even have the slightest idea how big and good his heart is.

Myra decided to end the discussion, seeing that she would not win. Graves wrapped her sister around his finger. He made her feel guilty. That she must repay that, thanks to him, she fulfilled herself professionally. In life, she would not allow such a subjection to Steven.

\- Steven wouldn't behave like that in his life.

\- Because dad is afraid of you ... - Hannah said quietly.

Her mother gasped with anger, but she didn't speak anymore. She accelerated her pace, wanting to finish shopping as soon as possible.


	8. Chapter 8

The voices were close. He heard them, but in the dream they only had the form of shadows lurking in the recesses of his tired mind. He tried to understand something of them, but he couldn't. He ran, the walls moved backwards until he finally found the door. Wooden door with a chipped handle. When he pressed it, the door burst open and a crack appeared. And he saw blond hair through it. Long blonde hair.

A sound of closing door snap him from his sleep. He rubbed his face with his hand, smearing something on it. He fell asleep as he used to in recent months, rolled into a ball, his hands covering his stomach. The inside of his hand was in his blood. Agatha couldn't see him like that. All the stress she has been exposed to could affect the baby. He couldn't even imagine going through such loss... again.

He put all his strength into rising to his feet. The joints frozen in one position began to scar. _Old man…_

He went into the bathroom, pulling off his dirty shirt. He dropped it on the floor, letting the water drain into the bathtub in the middle. Out of the corner of his eye, in a standing mirror, he noticed that he wore a brown and red stain on his undershirt. He washed his face and looked at his reflection. He saw something in the mirror. There was something in the dark corner of the bathroom. A shadow.

\- Percy ?!

\- In the bathroom!

Agatha knocked lightly and put her head through the door ajar. Seeing her husband in the undershirt and boxer shorts, she smiled. He looked like a grown-up child with black beard. Her face thinned when she saw blood. She rushed to his side.

\- I'm fine, Aggie.

She felt the heat in her stomach. She didn't remember when he last called her that last time. That's why she didn't like her name. It was so hard and official.

\- I don't believe you shorten my name.

\- Really? I haven't noticed...

He pulled her close to him, with his thumbs tracing the circles on her wide hips. Agatha followed his gaze, covering his hands with hers, unable to concentrate on the sensations that were going over her. Lips on her skin, hands on her body. How she missed him. She clung to him with her whole body, pushing her lips against his. He parted mouth slightly, giving her a silent invitation. His fingers tightened on her sides as she slid her tongue in, licking the inside of his lips. She felt the metallic taste of blood. He gently pushed her away from him.

\- What happened?

He felt her thirst. It was tangible like a thick fog. And yet he had the impression that he would only use her. He wouldn't make love to her, just use her as an outlet for weeks of anxiety, stress and frustration. He was never a delicate lover, but he knew that this time he would cross the limit of self-control.

Agatha knew this dark look in his brown eyes. She knew that he wanted her to the pain. And that he would give it to her. Pain. She wasn't afraid of it. She treated their relations as something mystical. As if their souls were united in this one primitive act of love. She knew that he puts all his heart into it and everything that accumulates in it. She wanted to take everything that hurt his soul and take over.

Carefully she pulled off his undershirt and chiffon blouse from her shoulders. She took a step forward, reaching Adam's apple with her lips, gently stroking the sensitive skin with her teeth. Cool, long fingers traced the thin line of hair on his stomach. Percival closed his eyes, still holding his hands stiff. He felt that he could no longer control himself.

\- Agatha ...

She moved away from him, stroking his unshaven cheek. She took his hand and guide him to sit on the stool. He stiffened when she crouched. But she just looked at the wound on his side.

\- It looks inflamed. I hope it's not an infection.

\- I used dittany, like you asked me to.

He cleared his throat, hearing the tremble of his voice. Agatha cleaned the wound, splitting two of the six stitches that remained. For a moment she maneuvered her wand by his stomach and back until he felt the edges of the wound seam again.

\- Go to the bathtub, I'll bring fresh towels.

Percival made the order, wincing when the warm water washed the sewing. But after a while, he gave in to the relaxation that began at his feet. He leaned his head against the edge of the tub. Agatha quietly stepped in, putting the towels on the stool. She leaned over him, brushing the damp hair from his forehead.

\- Rest.

The bed looked like someone had been murdered in it. Agatha pulled off the sheets and bedding, her wand pulling on the stains on the pillow and mattress. She sighed quietly, praying that Percival could rest as long as possible. She looked at the door and then at the alarm clock on the shelf. It was almost five. She focused on the feeling of love that filled her with bliss and conjured up a silvery cat. She bent to him, whispering a message in his ear. In her mind she recalled the building, the department and the cramped office and the addressee.

Hearing the gentle murmur of water, she entered the bathroom. She took a small stool and sat down, taking a rough sponge in her hand. She dipped it in the water and dug a bar of soap into it. She began with his hands, moving to the elbows and arms. She gently washed the shoulder, which still carried the traces of charm. He relaxed again, completely surrendering to her movements. Slowly he floated into a sweet non-being, when the sponge pulled to a sensitive place just below his navel. But Agatha changed direction, rubbing the suds into his legs.

\- Can you sit down?

He did what she asked for. She washed his back, taking care of the other side of the wound, and then cautiously slipped into the water behind him.

\- What are you doing?

\- I want to massage your back.

He didn't believed in her innocent tone, but said nothing. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to keep them higher so as not to hurt him. She ran her hands through the strained muscles and began to gently rub and knead them. Percival held himself upright with all his will, so as not to lean on her.

\- It won't give you anything when you're uptight. You can rest on me.

\- I'm heavy.

\- I dare to say you lost some weight. But how is it relevant?

\- Child...

Suddenly, everything jumped into place. Agatha almost hit her forehead. He was worried about the child. That both of them would get hurt. She laughed under her breath. She embraced his neck and pulled him so his head leaned against the edge of the tub, his back resting on her collarbone.

She didn't have much room for maneuver, but her hands began to draw various patterns, for a moment, circling around his chest. She knew that he liked it, though he never admitted it. Over the years, she had learned every sensitive place on his body, though he did not say a word about it. He preferred to give than to take. She felt his thigh muscles tense. Continuous self-control.

She reached up to his neck, feeling anger when her hard stomach prevented her from moving more. She made a small murmur of dissatisfaction. Graves stood up immediately, splashing water all over the floor.

\- Hey! Now we will broke our necks while coming out. Percy ... is it ... is it because of what I did? That I left you? That's why you don't want me to touch? Because if you don't, I will understand ...

He was sitting at the other end of the tub now and looking at her, frowning. He looked like a lion ready to jump. The voice tightened in her throat.

One quick move and he was over her, pouring more water. He put his arm around her, supporting her above the surface. Hot lips collided with her own until their teeth grated. After a while, he rested on her. He let go of the edge of the tub and wanted to slip his free hand between her thighs, but the injured abdominal muscles refused to obey. He swore at her mouth, breaking the kiss.

\- Percy?

He didn't say anything, breathing heavily. The whole situation sobered him. He stood up and carefully stepped out onto the wet tile. He lifted her to her feet and carefully pulled her out of the water. He kissed her, putting his tongue into her mouth. She grabbed his biceps, all her body against his.

\- Percy, you're shivering.

\- Thanks to you - he murmured into her hair, hugging her firmly. Of course, he won't tell her that he is completely finished and is barely upright. He wiped her gently with a towel, pushing to the stool so she had to sit on its edge.

\- Let's go to bed.

He nodded and took her in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom. Their reunion, after months of loneliness, was rough but they could feel more in love than ever. Like parted lovers finally coming back together. In a moment it was like they never split. Like months of pain, anger and eventually sadness never existed. They were whole again.

\- Percy?

His weight was overwhelming. He was indeed heavy. She almost forgot how it is. She felt something cold down her neck and shoulder. He held her tightly with him, his hand embracing her belly and trembling.

\- So much ... I love you so much ...

He kissed her ear and neck, finally rising. Before she could turn around, he wiped his face.

\- You don't have to be ashamed of them ...

Agatha ran a thumb over the wet trail on his cheek. He laughed, taking her hand in his, kissing her palm.

\- But you can. An old fool crying out of love.

\- You're neither fool nor old. I love you Percival.

He felt her words making his way through everything he had recently been part of. He felt happiness. Boundless happiness.


	9. Chapter 9

A single ray of sunlight cut the pillow and the woman's face. She lifted one eyelid, looking at the curtain. It was enough to move it. She wanted to get up, but muscular arm pressed harder against her body. She heard a faint growl of disapproval.

\- I just want to cover the window ... - she whispered, which softened his hug. Correcting the curtain, she glanced at the bed. Sleeping, Percival looked like a thirty-year-old, free from worries and concern.

She returned under the covers, feeling the chill on her skin. She slid her feet close to the man's legs. He hissed, feeling cold. He threw his arm over her again. Feeling slow, regular breath on her back, she smiled under her breath. If they could endure forever. At the moment she couldn't believe that the world around them was devouring by approaching darkness. She closed her eyes, tired after the night.

Something awakened her as if she were shaking her bed. The light of the day was visible on the ceiling. She lay pressed against the bed and various objects flew around the room. She turned to her husband, who was huddled back to her, covering his head with her hands. He was muttering one word under his breath. She rose on her elbow and touched his arm. Suddenly he sprang up and all the levitating objects fell to the floor with a clatter. Agatha wanted to look into his face, but he turned his back on her and pulled a handkerchief from the trousers lying on the floor. He wiped his nose and eyes, shivering slightly.

\- Percy ... what's going on?

\- I wish I know ...

\- And I thought you were „Percival Graves, a man who knows everything".

The man turned to her with seriousness in his eyes. She saw that something's lying on his heart, knowing perfectly well that he would keep it to himself. She sighed, stroking his cheek and pulling him, kissing him. She frowned, feeling the metallic tang in her mouth. She moved away, sitting on the bed.

The man wiped her lip, red from his blood. He had no doubt that the interrogation ended with a curse. He just had to find out what was it. But now all he wanted was his wonderful wife.

\- Don't worry.

\- Percy, I see something is happening. I know you don't like telling me anything, for safety reasons ... but please, if it's really bad ...

\- I will tell you everything.

Agatha wasn't convinced by his quick response, but she didn't have time to dwell on it, feeling a hot hand on her thigh. With her hand she began to wander over his belly, but he moved away, lying between her parted legs.

\- Lie down. You look exhausted.

She wasn't going to argue with him. She felt sleepy, sore and terribly tired. It's just that he didn't look better himself. The hair he wore brushed back, now, freshly washed and dried over the night, dropped lightly on his face and shaven side of his head with light waves. The bruises under his eyes were very distinct. He winced as he heard his spine crack. Agatha chuckled, though she felt guilty.

\- Are you laughing at your old man? - he leaned over her and put his lips into a delicate place at the base of her neck.

\- Stop! It tickles.

He didn't know how long they lasted. Silky hair tickled his face, trembling hands leaning against his shoulders. He had the impression that she would fall on him at any moment. He caught her at the ribs to support her.

\- Are you okay?

\- I-I can't do it ... - her voice was barely a whisper. Percival smiled, rising carefully. He leaned back against the column, holding his wife close to him. She lay down on his chest, tilting her head over his shoulder, placing a kiss where the scorpion's scabbard "stuck" into the skin of his neck. The feeling of bliss filled her to the brim. A gentle touch of his fingers tracing the trails around her was so wonderfully calming. She stood up slightly. Percival looked at her from under half-closed eyelids. She kissed him gently at the raised corner of his mouth and, throwing the robe on herself, left the room.

They had been living here for almost a month, and she still had the impression that the bedroom was upstairs. They had to find their own corner, because Myra's apartment made her feel depressed. She went to the kitchen, thinking about the breakfast she would do. When she looked out the window, pouring water into the kettle, the figure reflected in the glass. White hair and two-colored eyes.

 _Sometimes you need victims to make the matter gain strength…_

The kettle fell out of her hands. It felt like her chest was lit by a fireball spreading all over her body. She did what Percival taught her. She separated her mind from the body so she won't go crazy. The pain didn't disappear completely, but she could tame it. She remembered more and more details. She saw a woman with blue eyes, black hair high up on her head.

 _"Let's kill her"_

 _"My dear, patience. You can achieve anything with the right attitude. We don't want to hurt. We just want a little help. Let's try something different ... "_

\- Agatha! Aggie !

No, he can't see him. If he sees him, she won't be able to keep the barrier ... Not now, when she missed him so much. She had to think about something else. But it didn't help. He stood in front of her, dressed in black pants, loose in slim hips and a T-shirt. His home outfit. She felt the pain piercing her shoulders. Too late… Now he will know everything. She only managed to whisper:

\- Forgive me...

Percival had already summoned Auror's medallion from the bedroom, but before he could summon the Healer, Agatha embraced his face, staring at him consciously.

\- Percy?

\- You're back.

\- I was here all the time, silly.

But his eyes said something completely different. They were both crouched on the floor among the remains of porcelain. Graves lifted her and carefully put his bare feet, carrying her to the couch in the living room.

\- It was a vision?

Agatha nodded, feeling a sharp pain in sore throat. As if she was screaming for a long time.

\- The last one was five years ago. I thought I wouldn't have them anymore.

\- What did you see?

\- A woman, but I don't know how she looked. And a man. They tortured someone ...

\- I'll take you to the hospital.

\- No!

She stood up quickly, stumbling over the table. Percival caught her, protected her from falling and pulled her to him. She winced as if she felt pain. Surprise appeared on her face.

\- What's going on? What's happening?

She took his hand and pressed it to her belly. Graves felt his heart stopping. But under his fingers he felt something gently moving.

\- Is it ... child's moving ...?

She nodded, feeling it again. Seeing her husband's damp eyes, Agatha felt she was returning to the living. His joy kept her whole. She was afraid, however, that it wouldn't take long. Especially when she knew she could be his ruin.

\- Percy? Could we go for a walk?

\- Of course.

Agatha looked at the mirror for the last time before leaving the house. Will they ever be able to go for a walk once again, wearing their own faces? A freckled brunette with brown eyes stared at her from the mirror. However, she left her lips. She always did that. _If we are to hide, I want to feel your lips at least._

Percival with brown, short hair and blue eyes looked bizarre. She thought she was used to this view. At the wedding, he looked like that. The roguish gaze of dark eyes from under the thick eyebrows disappeared.

They didn't know when they were in Central Park. Children and adults were skating in the middle of the pond. Agatha pulled her thoughtful husband toward the shore. When no one was looking, she waved her wand, changing shoes into skates. Percival caught her arm tightly before she could get on the ice.

\- You want to skate? In your state?

\- Percival, I'm pregnant for God's sake. I'm not dying.

\- Yes but…

\- Then stop me.

She pulled her arm out of his grip and jumped on the ice. She staggered, but quickly straightened up and, with one graceful movement, she drove deep into the people. Her laughter carried around her. This sound summoned a smile on the man's face. She didn't have the opportunity to enjoy this last time. Seeing, however, how unintentionally someone falls into her, Graves rolled his eyes and muttered the spell. Uncertainly, he entered the slippery pond and tried to reach his wife. Taking too long a step, legs went under him. Agatha could not help but laugh at him as she rode up to him. The sight of a serious Security Director, making unintentional splits, amused her with tears.

\- And I thought you finally learned last winter.

\- I haven't done it for a long time.

He stood awkwardly, feeling that he ripped his pants. Good that his coat was long enough to cover it. In the end, he caught his balance and found the right pace of the ride. He chased Agatha, too focused on her being safe, to feel pleasure from skating. He stumbled from time to time. Of course his wife had a natural talent. He even had the impression that she was hovering a few millimeters above the ice.

Finally, she stopped under a stone bridge. Percival caught up with her, now bracing himself against the rocks. Holding on to them, he leaned over her, trying to kiss her red lips. Her cheeks were pink from frost and riding. Breath shallow from effort.

\- Maybe some rest? The little one will skate on his own feet.

\- How do you know it's him? - the woman turned her face, remembering the words of someone else.

\- Just a hunch.

Agatha finally smiled and kissed her husband. She wanted to remember this moment forever.


	10. Chapter 10

_Harold's Lodge_

\- We are late…

\- Nothing new. Where to put luggage?

\- Put it in the wardrobe for now, I'll unpack it later. I can hear everyone downstairs. We're last to come.

\- Calm down. It's not Christmas yet.

\- I promised that we would be earlier to help in the kitchen.

\- I couldn't break out faster. Sorrow, as usual, left me all paperwork. I still have a pile on my desk. And besides ... the atmosphere is "quite tense", especially after the Winter Ball failure. Picquery will dry my head for the rest of my life.

\- Serafina should pull out the stick from her bott...

\- Aunt Aggie! Uncle Percy! Finally!

Eleanor came screaming, throwing herself to aunt's legs, banging painfully against her belly. Agatha moved away too late. Percival picked up the six-year-old girl, giving the wife a worried look, but she smiled and hugged both of them.

\- Nothing happened. Did you decor our room?

\- Yes! Do you like it?

Agatha laughed, reminding herself of Percival's face as soon as he followed her out of the fireplace. The room was one big bomb of green, red and gold. There were pennants hanging everywhere, napkins lay on all flat surfaces, and even the sheets matched the color of the decorations. A bunch of mistletoe hung under the canopy.

\- It's very ... festive.

Again they heard a fuss coming from downstairs. Something broke out, the sound of the glass falling on the floor was heard.

\- I should probably go.

Percival nodded, and still with Eleanor in his arms, he stepped out into the corridor, watching his wife. The little one released herself and slid down onto the carpet. She took his warm, large hand and shook it.

\- Uncle Percy?

\- Yes, Elle?

\- Can we go to John? Ma was yelling at him yesterday. He doesn't leave the room.

Percival followed the little girl, turning back to the angry screams coming from the ground floor. Elle put her hands to her ears and walked on.

\- Why did she shout at him?

\- Because he did not pass the semes ... sems exam ...

\- Semester exam?

\- Yes. It was scary.

They reached the door at the end of the corridor. Elle knocked as hard as she could.

\- Who's there?

\- It's me and uncle Percy!

Jonathan opened the door and stuck his head out. Seeing the auror, his face turned red, but eventually he let them in. The room didn't look good. A broken mirror, everywhere feathers from pillows and strange creatures running around the floor. Boxes with legs, teapot with ears and two back paws of a rabbit.

\- Oh my! If ma will see it ...

\- Elle hush, sit on the armchair or you'll cut your foot with the glass.

Percival pulled out his wand and before the siblings saw it, the glass, wood and feathers were in place. He crouched on the floor, calling to himself all of the boy's unsuccessful experiments. He transmuted them back into objects and arranged in a line on the boards. He nodded to John, who with reddened eyes came up to him. They sat cross-legged and Elle jumped on Percival's lap.

\- Can I try it too?!

\- If John doesn't mind.

\- Let her try.

The man pulled a match from the box and put it on his palm.

\- Incantation is Acusignis. Repeat. Aku - sig - nis.

\- Aku-sig-nis.

\- Well. Now look at this match, look at its shape, the ball at the top. Imagine a needle with an ear just in the place of this ball. And when you see it, say the spell.

Eleanor stared at the match, bringing her face to it. Finally, she pulled back and held out a small hand, speaking aloud: _Acusignis_! The match for a moment turned into metal, but soon returned to its original state.

\- Well. You need to practice a bit. You can't think about something else. You can't think it's a match. It has to be a needle. You see the needle.

\- But it's a match.

\- I know. Okay, take it and sit in an armchair. I will practice with Jonathan.

The girl curled up in a chair with a match in her hand. Percival moved the teapot and nodded at him.

\- Incantation?

\- _Lapifors_.

\- I can't tell you anything more than what I said to Elle. Imagine a rabbit and just a rabbit. Think about color of it's fur, how soft it is, how londg ears should be. Will he jump high? When was the last time you saw a rabbit? Find this memory. The easiest way is to choose a coat based on the subject. Remember, you emphasize "LAP".

The boy nodded and lay down in front of the teapot. He closed his eyes, reminding himself that in the summer he was walking with his father, who had day off. They walked along the meadow near the house. They saw a flock of rabbits. One was white like a teapot. He focused on him. He opened his eyes and quietly, but clearly said: _Lapifors_ , pointing with his right hand at the teapot. A green light flashed. The teapot turned into a rabbit. However, when he jumped, the porcelain grated.

\- Excellent!

\- He didn't change.

\- Not quite, no. But he looked like a rabbit. Perfectly!

Percival patted the boy on the shoulder. He restored the teapot to the original look and encouraged John to repeat.

They sat for an hour or less. Percival leaned his head against the bed mattress, soon drifting off to sleep. A gentle plucking of the sleeve awakened him. He rubbed the rest of his nap from eyes with his hand and looked down. The sleeve of his black blazer was plucked by a snow-white, live rabbit. His eyes were miss-matched. Blue and brown. He sank his sharp teeth into his hand, biting through. Percival jumped to his feet and then ...

He banged his head against the leg of the bed. He opened wide eyes, seeing the white rabbit nibbling his sleeve. White rabbit with floral ornament on fur. John sat with Elle, who was already changing the second box of matches into the needle. The first ones, slightly bent and of various sizes, lay neatly arranged on a handkerchief with the monogram P.G.

\- Uncle woke up! Look, look! I changed them all. And I took your handkerchief ... you're not angry aren't you?

He shook his head, staring at the worried eyes of a thirteen-year-old who gave him one of the napkins from the table.

\- You're bleeding, uncle.

Percival wiped his nose, feeling the metallic taste in his mouth. He put the napkin in his pocket and stood up, taking the rabbit in his hand. Leg muscles and joints protested after staying for so long in one position, so he had to sit on the bed. He examined the animal, pushing it away quickly as it began firing poop.

\- Pretty. It has a nice ... pattern. You did well. Try a little more by changing its color. But don't worry. For this result Blackthorn will give you at least 80% on the pass. Show it to your mother.

\- You've done great too, Elle. Come on, let's see what's down.

\- Apocalypse...

Percival smiled at the girl's sigh. She hid her works in the pocket of her apron and raised her hands so that the man would take her for a piggyback. He met her request, being careful when they passed through the door. He stopped in front of the stairs.

\- Look ... don't tell your mom or aunt about it ... - he pointed to his nose. The children looked at each other and nodded gravely.

\- Percival - damn Director - Graves!

In the corridor stood a pair of snow-covered travelers, dusting the brooms of snow powder and ice. A tall, lean man with ginger, short-cut hair, raised icy goggles to his forehead. His face was red, though he wore a thick white-gold scarf. Reaching up to his chest, a small figure unwrapped her head with a headscarf and hung her goggles on a hanger, with her hands pulling thick dragon leather gloves with fur stuffed inside.

\- Barnaba. Miko. Konnichiwa - Percival bowed deeply in front of the woman who answered him with a bow, smiling. She gave him a hand. He kissed her, bringing a smile to his face. Miko, however, became serious, feeling his touch. She looked him straight in the eye and he was sure she knew. In the end, she was a specialist. But she switch to a smile face again, speaking with melodic voice.

\- Percival. I couldn't wait for our meeting again.

\- It's wonderful to see you again also.

\- Hey, I will have to challenge him for a duel or what? Where's the rest?

\- I think they're in the kitchen, to be honest, I was sitting with Jonathan and Elle from our arrival.

\- Father in full swing. I heard that you'll need a practice. Congratulations, old man, with all my heart.

Men shook hands and moved, let Miko pass them first. Barnabas slowed down a bit, holding his brother-in-law behind, by a bunny's bitten sleeve.

\- How does she feel?

\- Well. Everything seems to be fine. She must watch out for herself, so she won't come back to work for now. She already passed ... this period.

\- That's good. Damn, I'm glad you'll break Myra's monopoly.

\- And you? When will you stand in front of the altar?

\- I would like to find a permanent job first. You know, a specialist in magic locks and anti-burglary spells is a niche. Now that it's hot with Grindelwald rising...

\- Stop! No more words!

A housewife stood in front of them, red on her face, with a rag in her hand. She looked at both menacingly.

\- I don't want any sorcerer's theme or any matters related to your work. Not now and not here. There are four children here who absorb everything. And on Mercy Lewis! Percival, couldn't you teach John to change something other than my only wedding teapot?

\- You can restore it to the previous form. Well, John. Show your mother.

\- I-I don't know ...

\- You can do it. You remember what a teapot looked like.

Jonathan put a rabbit on the table, which froze in the presence of so many people around. The boy closed his eyes and remembered all those moments when the teapot didn't move despite the spell cast on him. He opened his eyes, feeling calm.

\- _Reparifarge_.

The rabbit shuddered and spun around its axis. He stopped, dispelling the white smoke around him. What appeared was a rabbit with the body of a teapot, with a neck instead of a head.

\- Percival made a gentle gesture with his hand and transmuted the animal back into the vessel.

\- No wonder you didn't pass the semester. As always, everything is half-whistle. Nothing until the end ...

\- Stop it Myra. The boy is trying. For the last hour he made more progress than for four months. All you have to do is give him time and encourage him. Let him know, he's doing well.

\- Encourage? Give time? I have four children on my head, home and work.

\- Forgive me for bringing you down to earth. Three of them permanently live during the school year outside the home. Admit you can't teach him that.

\- How dare you! How dare you lecture me! You are forty years old and have not raised a child in your life! For ten years, you tried so hard that my sister started to get too old for a child. And now you don't know if she will be able even to give birth to one!

Hannah and Helen, Myra's daughters sucked in a loud breath. Miko said something in her native language. Agatha felt a purple blush appear on her face. She could see out of the corner of her eye how Barnaba was gripping Percival's hand tightly, but he didn't know it didn'r matter. He didn't need his wand after all. A strong grip, however, probably sobered the man, because he stepped back and together with her brother went out through the kitchen door to the garden.

It was not until the third cigarette, Percival cleared his throat, noting Barnaby, who was sitting silently smoking beside him. He raised his head, staring at the stars in the sky. After the first cigarette, he called coats from the house. After another, Miko looked in, bringing them brandy tea.

\- Before I went to Ilvermorny, my father taught me at home. He wanted to be sure that I would represent the Graves family with dignity. He was the last of the first line. His brothers died. So there was I, Cornelius, two years younger than me and Tristan. He was less than three years old then. As his firstborn, I had to match him. Imagine an eight-year-old in whom magic just came and a 32-year-old who, as the youngest, was treated with disdain. He wanted to show everyone that he is worthy of his name and the position of his family. And what's best to show what we can do than the fruits of our work?

\- Or the loins ...

Percival nodded and taking a break to light another cigarette and call a bottle of whiskey, wrapped himself in a scarf. Barnaba looked at the lights in the kitchen. Miko and Agatha stood at the sink, talking to each other.

\- It's cold in here. Come, I'll show you something.

Graves also looked in the window, but the women were gone. He got up after his brother-in-law and went down the snowy path. The garden began to resemble a winter picture. They reached the tool shed, standing behind her.

\- It's a shed.

\- Mhm.

\- Are you going to weed the garden?

\- I assembled it with Steven. Aggie helped with security, camouflage and everything. Sometimes you need to rest from Myra.

At last he waved his wand in an elaborate manner, muttering something under his breath, and the wall behind him disappeared. When they crossed the threshold, it turned into glass. Inside were armchairs, a cast iron stove and a small table. There were also No-Majs books on one of the shelves. About gardening, fishing and DIY. Barnaba lit a fire and drew his armchair closer. He summoned two chipped glasses from a lacework cupboard and poured the liquor.

\- Continue. Your father and his great ambitions ...

\- Yes. He was very ... sensitive on this point. And the worst part was that he was not the best Auror, although he received a stool of the Head of the Office. He was hurt by the fact that his eldest son, unlike the other two, didn't display any magical skills. Finally, in his frustration, he threw me out of the tower at Graves Manor one day. I remember that my brother saved me. Instinctively. My father did it because he was afraid that I could be like my mother. Previously, no one thought that a woman should wield powerful magic. On the contrary. She was encouraged to be fluent in home spells. And she had a good name. My mother came from an old French line. Not as old as Lestrange, but quite respected and good. Corbeau. It's funny because in French it means the mourner. Graves and Corbeau. A funeral couple. I don't know if they ever loved each other. When I was able to understand some things, I think that they behaved correctly at most. Anyway. My mother's power was really so weak that my father feared the worst. When the first shock passed, I felt a rage. And I tried to find any traces of magic in myself. I knew that at the moment of danger, it was manifested most strongly. So I did so much stupidity that my mother finally noticed. When I was found washed up by the river, with a broken leg and bruised ribs from the bridge jump, she made an argument to my father. One of the two I remembered in my life. So my father started to teach me. It didn't give much. There was something inside me, some spark. But the fire ignited an event not related to my father.

\- We went with my brother to an abandoned mill. I was 9 years old, he was seven. He was a very curious child, he came in everywhere, he had to see everything. He went upstairs and started tinkering with the quern. I don't know what he did, he never confessed. I heard only a bang and I saw a ceiling fall on me, my brother followed him and a huge stone is flying on us. I don't know how I did it, but I held my hands up and the ceiling fell apart. Cornelius fell next to me and the stone which flew on us, split in half and fell on both sides. We lay surrounded by my first shield in my life. We promised that we wouldn't tell anyone about it.

\- But my father sensed this change. For the next two years he drilled me, acquainting me with every possible spell. It doesn't matter that most were too complex. I had to know them, remember them, be able to do them. I started to run into the forest. Tirelessly run ahead of me until my father finally found me. A year before school, Con joined me. Tristan was four years old.

\- Our father's education consisted in punishment and lack of it. If you did something right, you were lucky. Because if you don't ... The whip from the stable was the first one to move. Then he healed us. With time, it became so "natural" to me that I didn't know that it could be different. Tristan saw everything and slowly began to understand. He knew that using magic would mean private lessons. And these mean pain. So he stopped using it. He strangled in himself for as long as he could. Even for me, it was enough when I was in my third year. I came back for a Christmas break. Con was a day later, he corrected an exam. He failed. My father found out somehow about it. He took him when I was with Tristan and my mother at a neighbors' party. We came back faster. The screams were heard from the threshold. A house-elf shivered at the hanger. Together with my mother, we dropped into Con's room. He was kneeling with a smashed hand. My father was yelling that if he couldn't pass a trivial exam, why would he need a hand at all? I took Con. He was 11 years old. Can you imagine it? I fixed my brother's hand. I wrote a letter to MACUSA and to the Director of Ilvermorny. But my owl never came back.

\- That's when I heard my mother's scream for the second time. Earlier she came and ordered us to undress. Tristan told her everything. She saw the scars on our back. She added two to two. She told us to pack and go back to school. Our housemaid took us. We stopped coming back in the summer. Only for two weeks, which we spent on practicing in the father's department. I verbally filed a complaint against him, offering memories, but they told me that they would carry out an investigation. The child's word was worth as much as a woman or a house-elf.

\- That's why I got mad at Myra. Because I know what it is like, try hard to be the best. And what does it do with a man. With his head. And Jonathan is a good boy. Do not get me wrong, I don't want to compare your sister to my sick father ...

\- She does not know about it, right? About everything?

\- No. Only Agatha knows. And now you. I don't want anyone to pity a child I haven't been since the age of nine. My father and brothers are long gone. And so is my mother.

Barnaba tried to say something, but nothing occurred to him. No word of comfort. He felt uncomfortable. The man who was like a brother to him for 10 years, thanks to which he stood on his feet and began his career, opened his heart to him and he had a blank in his head.

\- Are you smoking a bonfire or something? You can't go through this smoke.

Miko entered through the glazed door, trying to cover eyes and nostrils from the sharp smell of tobacco. Both men stood up, swaying slightly. During the Percival story, they drank two bottles of Ogden's Fire Whiskey. Auror smiled at the small woman and suddenly bent in half. Something splashed on the floor. Barny jumped back, but seeing the almost black color of vomit he shot a warning look to the woman and grabbed his brother-in-law's arm. He did it at the last moment when legs buckled under the man and his head flew backward, revealing a macabre sight.


	11. Chapter 11

\- Call Steven. Only discreetly. And tell Agatha that he'll sleep with you. I'll go to her later.

Barny nodded eagerly and ran out of the room. Miko set up copper censers, casting a spell on the doors and windows earlier, so that smoke and smell and sound wouldn't escape.

The monotonous voice murmured incantations, a wand conjuring silk lines, calligraphed with ancient formulas. She needed to quickly revive in mind all her knowledge about this specific curse. She read about it during her school and practice years. But never encountered one. Not in such advanced form. He was like to be alive. What strength was needed to survive that? She had no idea.

Barnaba returned with Steven. Myra's husband cursed, seeing the Auror's bloody face. Miko waved her wand again, making the man's suit disappear, leaving him only the bottom of his underwear.

\- Tie him tight to the frame. Besides, you'll have to keep him still so he doesn't break the ropes. Even if that means that you have to break his limbs.

The men nodded their heads together and did as she asked for, positioning themselves on opposite sides of the bed. Miko sat next to Percival and painted a pattern with dragon's blood in the place of his heart, which under the pale skin was visible as a black mass with branches of veins.

She put her wand to his temple and whispered a spell. The echo of the curse resonated through the bright wood, to her fingers, arm and heart. She moved away quickly, standing with the copper bowl in her hand and began to spell. She sang formulas for a long time with a loud voice, but nothing happened. Barny couldn't feel his hands anymore, pinning the left arm and leg of his brother-in-law. Steven looked at him questioningly, but he nodded, silently reassuring him that everything was all right. There was silence. For a moment, Barnaba had the impression that the scorpion tattoo was moving. And then something buckled the inert body, tensing the ropes. The man looked like he was possessed. Both helpers tried to hold him by the bed. His face was covered with fresh blood, but this time it flowed not only from his nose and mouth, but also from wide-open eyes and ears. With every drop, the black heart was less and less visible. When the burgundy spots reached the men's hands, the Auror's chest was normal again. Pale skin and scars on it. He stopped throwing himself, losing conscious.

Miko sat on the floor, breathing heavily. It felt like a curse was drawn from her. Barnaba came to her, embracing her tightly. He found her gold-lit eyes and kissed her trembling lips. He was her anchor.

\- All right?

\- Yes. For him it's unfortunately not the end. I've only got physical effects. I repudiated death. He will have to break his mind free. We have to burn everything from this bed.

\- I'll take care of it. Go to bed.

\- Let incense and candles burn. He'll sleep calmer.

Graves' bedroom was in darkness. Miko silently went inside, trying to feel the creaking boards. From above the pillows rose a tousled, blond head.

\- Percy?

\- It's me, Miko.

Agatha sat down immediately and switched on the lamp. She looked at the black-haired woman who still had traces of dragon blood on her cheeks. Miko sat next to her, brushing her fair hair from her sweaty face.

\- You have a slight fever, you should lie down.

\- It's from medicine. What's with him?

\- Sleeping like dead man, they've drunk half a barrel of whiskey.

\- Miko, I'm not a stupid tinker. Is that a curse?

The woman sighed, gently massaging Agatha's hands with her thumbs. This movement aroused anxiety in former Auror. As if she wanted to calm her down, preparing for the worst.

\- He will be fine. It's an ancient curse. I haven't dealt with it for a long time, never alone. Someone like me can only inhibit her physical aspect. But what has been planted in the mind ... Percival will have to face it alone. Whoever cast that curse thought about it carefully. Nobody with a weak heart and mind would have survived that long. But his will to live and fight is insatiable. You don't have to worry, Onēsan.

Agatha smiled and finally felt a little calmer. She lay down, wondering how to discover the source of the curse. Auror's former zeal woke up stronger than ever. The movement in her stomach, however, called her to the ground. Until the child is safe in her arms, she can't take care of that matter. She only hoped that before Grindelwald would attack openly, she would be ready for it.

The morning of December 24th was the first in five months, when Agatha Graves woke up with a light heart and loudly demanding to eat belly. The clock in the kitchen showed six o'clock. The whole house was in darkness and silence.

A woman pulled out her wand and tapped it on the radio. She turned the knob so that the quiet music would surround only her.

Dishes from the dryer flew into the cupboard and the eggs and chives obediently flew from the pantry. After a while, the smell of hot butter and yolks filled the kitchen.

The kettle was whistling softly, and after a moment, to the tasty scent of scrambled eggs came aromatic smell of coffee.

\- I would kill for what you're cooking.

\- You got up early, Barns.

\- You look dazzlingly, little sister. Especially your legs. These pantaloons with lace accentuate your thighs.

\- Well, somebody probably didn't get a good night's sleep here talks nonsense.

\- I can be slightly drunk Ags. Everything because of your husband.

\- I heard that he gave a good show yesterday.

She gave her brother a cup of hot drink and shifted the plate with scrambled eggs in his direction.

\- You're an angel.

Slowly, more people began to descend, lured by a smell of breakfast. Hannah embraced her aunt and kissed her. The woman felt warmth in her heart. She looked up at the clouds in the sky. Snowing changed into a small blizzard.

In the window she noticed Percival's reflection. She turned around, hugging her face in the soft material of his pajamas.

\- Mom! Mom! It's today?

Two children ran out of the hall, falling into the spacious kitchen. Agatha was sure they weren't at Harold's Lodge. This house was much bigger. She heard happy conversations from the dining room. She released her husband and went towards the voices. Everyone was sitting there, all her closest family. Barnaba tossed up a small, black-haired girl. There were also August, Annie Solice, John Apricot, young lad who had just finished Ilvermorny and joined the Novitiate when she was finishing her Auror's career.

She adjusted the white dress on the growing belly and went to greet the guests which she heard coming. She stopped abruptly, feeling her eyes flood with tears.

\- V! Eagle! What are you doing here?!

\- We brought you lost ones.

They moved away, letting the tall young man in the olive uniform. His black hair was cut short, his green eyes under his thick black eyebrows looked at her with a smile in them.

\- Finally, we meet.

Behind him walked a slim, petite woman in raven-black curls, bunched loosely on her head. The green of her dress emphasized the color of her eyes. A ten-year-old stood at her side, curiously watching the walls and the candelabrum.

\- You arranged it here nicely. It is so bright, nice.

\- Right? After all, it's our home.

Agatha froze at the sound of a voice from her nightmares. She turned slowly. In front of her, stood in Percival's pajamas and with their children in his arms ... Gellert Grindelwald. One of the children turned his head, revealing multicolored iris.

Percival sat on the bed, torn from a deep sleep. He was completely awake, though a viscous nothingness enfold him a second before. He looked at the curtain through which he could see the light of the day. He stood on the cold boards, wincing. He felt strangely well rested. He didn't remember when he was sleeping so lightly lately. He went into the bathroom and rinsed his face out of habit. Raising to the mirror, he froze. The shape of a heart reflected on his chest, smeared with blood. His hair was stuck with bloody dried-up strangles. What the hell was going on at night? He only remembered that he had talked with Barnaba, that they were drinking and smoking No-Majs cigarettes.

Returning to the room, he took one of the shirts hanging on the chair and put it on, though he barely fit his arms in narrow sleeves. He found some loose pants and pulled them on. He returned to the bathroom, putting his head under the tap in the sink, washing the blood out of his hair. He wiped them quickly and went out into the corridor. The house was quiet, but from the garden came cheers and creaks of snow. There was a pile of plates after breakfast in the kitchen sink. On one of the kitchen countertops stood a mug with the inscription "Mrs. S". Only after seeing it from close up, a man noticed a painted gray tomb amidst the grass with which "s" stood alone. He smiled realizing it was Agatha's mug. He tapped his wand into a cup, heating the rest of the coffee that remained in it.

Eleanor burst into the kitchen, letting in frosty air and a cloud of snow. She ran into Percival walking toward the stairs, spilling coffee. At the last moment he protected her with a spell. She bounced off his legs and dropped to her seat.

\- Carefully!

\- I run away from the snow monster.

\- Ah yes. Should I protect you?

\- Yes! Yes! Just dress up or you'll catch a cold. You can't go out in the snow half naked.

Percival ruffled the little girl's hair and scoured the spilled drink. He was about to climb the stairs when a quiet voice spoke behind him.

\- You woke up.

Hearing these words, he felt the hair on his neck rise and a shudder runs over his skin ...


End file.
